


Every Hour Has Come To This

by onoheiwa



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Avengers Tower, Cuddling, Dating, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Superhusbands, First Dates, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Hurt Steve, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Avengers (2012), Romance, Slow Build, Steve Rogers and the 21st Century, Superhusbands (Marvel), Tony Angst, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Weddings, blanket burritos, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2018-03-19 10:11:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 48,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3606303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onoheiwa/pseuds/onoheiwa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dear Friends,<br/>Today we gather to celebrate the marriage of the two beloved - Steve Rogers and Tony Stark. Let's look back on how they fought together... how they went out for their first date... and how they fell in love... </p><p>It starts when Steve moves into Avenger's Tower and he and Tony try to start over, maybe just as friends, but maybe it could be something more. </p><p> </p><p>And I suck at summaries, so just know that this is the written fanfic version to accompany the great Missy Li's fan video "Steve/Tony; A Thousand Years."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I stumbled across this fan video and thought, "Oh my gosh that is freakin adorable!" And promptly decided the story needed to be written. The wonderful Missy Li gladly gave permission, for which I am terribly grateful. You do not need to see the video for the story to make sense, but it's totally worth watching anyway. I spent most of it grinning like the sappy romantic that I am. 
> 
> The video is [Steve/Tony; A Thousand Years (fanvid)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Mby7vkbBGQ)
> 
> The title of this story was obviously taken from the song used in the video, "Thousand Years" by Christina Perri.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first few chapters are going to be filling in a lot of background, mostly getting up to the first part of the video where we really see Steve and Tony together, when Tony's having his nightmares. I figured we needed to fill in the blank space before that with why Steve is even in the Tower and how his moving in has kept Tony from falling apart. So that will eat up a few chapters (and probably more than I originally thought it would, but the muses have been good to me so far). 
> 
> At that point we'll officially pick up with the video and I'll try to follow it pretty strictly from that point, although with a lot more words than just the simple dialogue there :) 
> 
> I feel like this chapter is more like a prologue even though its the same length as other chapters. Not much happens, just kind of setting up the story.

Today we gather to celebrate the marriage of the two beloved - Steve Rogers and Tony Stark. There's a white guest book with simple black text of the names of the future couple and one little phrase: A Thousand Years. The reception hall is roofed with twinkling white lights and strung across the open spaces are hundreds of pictures clothes-pinned to fraying twine. People smiling, goofing around, candids of every day life. Each photo contains parts of the lives of two men. Some of them are old photos, black and white or faded sepia. Some are brand new, crisp and glossy. In some they are children, in others grown men. But all of them tell their story, how two separate lives become one, and how dearly they have come to love each other. Let's look back on how they fought together, how they went out for their first date, and how they fell in love... 

 

~~~

 

If someone had told Steve Rogers that he would end up moving into Tony Stark's personal tower back during the whole Loki incident, even achieving friendliness with the man, he would have laughed. Not a whole hysterical fit or anything, but it would definitely have elicited a chuckle.

 

They hadn't exactly started off on the right foot, after all, what with both of them having a tendency for snark and a defensive wit, falling into sarcasm and jokes anytime someone made them uncomfortable. It had taken awhile for Steve to realize it - how similar they were. He'd always relied on his smart mouth to cover up when he was feeling hurt or awkward - it made him look tougher, made him less of a target back when he was small. It wasn't so easy to mock the little guy when he'd come right back at you with twice the insult and only half the emotion, casual in his apathetic, cool rebuttal. You would think that meant he could recognize the same habit in someone else, but apparently not. Perhaps he just wasn't used to people being like that - people in his day were generally more polite to strangers unless they were looking for a fight. So when Stark had immediately started off with jokes Steve couldn't understand and a slew of sarcastic comments that were wrapped prettily in an arrogant smirk, Steve had done what he always had when faced with a cocky bully: he got smart as hell and gave as good as he got, refusing to take the abuse for a second. 

 

So, yeah. Not a great start. And he couldn't even blame it all on the scepter because the only way it could have worked as well as it had was if there had already been some animosity harbored in their heads toward each other. It was as if the scepter had torn down their sense of propriety and the voice in their head that told them to calm down and not overreact. All the malicious words that had spilled out of Steve's mouth that day had been things he'd already been thinking - just not anything he would have ever said out loud; they were much too terrible to ever be said. 

 

But he had said them and he couldn't take them back, especially because he had meant them. He had been proven completely and utterly wrong about all of it but he couldn't take it back, couldn't change the past. All he could do was apologize, explain that he was wrong - he had made assumptions and judgments without really understanding the man behind the mask. 

 

He had apologized, sort of. The two had separated amiably after Loki and Thor had made their dramatic exit in a flash of blue light. It had been a terribly uneventful resolution. He'd barely gotten the words, "Stark, I wanted to apologize for what I said on-" before Stark was flapping a hand and looking around quickly, eyes flitting to anything but Steve. His, "Nothing to apologize for," had likely intended to sound like a mutual apology, despite the words not being quite right, but there had been a strange trace of bitterness to it that made Steve wonder. He hadn't been able to get it out of his head, curious about such a tone coming from someone who was normally so blasé about everything. 

 

But they had left and gone their separate ways on good terms and now here he stood, two weeks later, duffle bag slung over his shoulder as he rode up the elevator to the genius's own floor, having been invited personally. 

 

It had been an interesting couple of weeks since the Asgardians' departure. He had spent the time driving around the country, hitting the major tourist sights that he had always wanted to see growing up, but never been able to, as well as a few new places that had popped up since he went down in the ice. The first stop had been a museum that housed a surprisingly large exhibit about Captain America. It had been strange, seeing his own life immortalized on glass walls and in colorful pictures. He had moved on to more typical sights - national parks, famous museums, odd tourist attractions, unique restaurants. He wanted to see everything. There had already been a lot of those kinds of things in the '40s and now there was even more to see. 

 

He'd also been trying to familiarize himself with America's modern culture, not that it had been going well when he had tried to do it all on his own. He didn't even know where to start. History? Politics? Movies? Music? There was seventy years worth of information that he had missed out on; how much of it was really necessary and important to know? What could he survive without? Even his serum-enhanced memory could only handle so much input and he was already feeling so overwhelmed that he had just given up after a few days, unable to handle figuring out what was worth learning and what was better off being ignored. 

 

Honestly, if he just had a list he'd be better off, something to tell him specifically where to start learning, but SHIELD had simply handed him a history book for the last century and a few files explaining important laws and legal issues that had changed: African-American rights, women's rights, marriage laws, changes in food and safety restrictions, and a few more. Some of it surprised him, but never negatively. His mother had raised him to respect all people, regardless of who they were, and to respect people's rights to freedom, to dignity. Mama hadn't raised no bully and Steve would protect people and respect how they wanted to live their lives, regardless of his personal opinions about it. As long as they weren't hurting anyone else he saw no reason to hate them, even if he didn't agree. He had grown up knowing that he wasn't nearly as prejudiced as everyone else he knew and that was  _before_ he realized his interests lay a little ways from normal. 

 

So, suffice it to say that the world was different from what he had grown up with, but it wasn't all bad. There were things that angered him about this country, ways that they cut corners and kept secrets or lies and didn't always protect people in the right ways. But they had gotten a lot right too, so he couldn't complain, and as much as many things confused him, he was actually figuring it out. He didn't know why people kept making jokes about how he was probably highly inept at working with technology, after all, most people nowadays didn't really understand how any of that stuff worked - the internet, computers, televisions, satellite signals. They operated the equipment, but how many average Americans understood the science behind it? They just grew up with the stuff knowing how to use it and that was easy to learn.

 

Much of it wasn't terribly different than things he had grown up with - radios and refrigerators were almost the same, if a bit fancier what with all the additional options; washing machines were nice, although he still preferred his clothes to air dry; and internal heating and air-conditioning was a thing of beauty. The internet was probably the most useful thing he had found - a library with all the information in the world and all you had to do was know how to read and write. The televisions and the touch-screen cell phones everyone carried around were not nearly as complicated to figure out as everyone seemed to think it would be for him. Everything was labeled clearly, how could it possibly be as complicated as they made it sound? 

 

Maybe he should have been insulted that everyone seemed to think he was so stupid, but if that was the worst thing he had to deal with, he would deal with it. As it was, he was having little trouble figuring out how to use all the new technology but he was having a lot of trouble figuring out what part of the "media" to pay attention to. There were so many television programs, or TV shows as they were called now, not to mention the music. So many genres and artists, not just in America, but all over the world and he had access to all of it. Not to mention that seventy years of movies would have been a lot to catch up on even if production had stayed as low as it had been when he fell asleep. Now one company could put out double that many movies in a single year and there were hundreds of film companies, producers, directors, and actors just in America, not to mention all the foreign films. He couldn't possibly catch up. 

 

So he spent a couple of weeks on his own, driving all over to see the touristy and magnificent natural sights that America had to offer, all while ignoring the blaring lights and crazy noises of the modern-day American media culture. But by the time he had finished his tour, he no longer knew what to do with himself. 

 

He had headed back to the SHIELD headquarters in New York, where he had been staying before two gods showed up on the planet, but beyond that he had no plans. He was part of the Avengers Initiative, but that only gave him something to do when the world was in danger. He could train, but he already did that anyway. What was he supposed to do with the other twelve hours in his day? 

 

Steve had stood at the entrance to his quarters, the metal door a cold presence behind him, and stared at the spartan room: a bed, a dresser only half-filled with clothes and a few necessities, and his uniform hung on the wall with his shield leaning nearby. All of his possessions in the world were right here in a 12x12 square of concrete. It was less than he had ever had and that was saying something; he had never had much. 

 

At least he had had friends then. Well, one friend. Now he didn't even have that. He had his teammates now, but they had all scattered: Thor worlds away, Natasha and Clint back to their regular mission work as SHIELD agents, Bruce off to who knows where. He knew that the scientist had left with Tony to check out the labs at Stark Industries but on his return to SHIELD, Steve had been told the man had left after a couple of days. Perhaps too many years on the run had left him restless. Or paranoid. Maybe a little of both. 

 

And Stark. He was the one person on the team that Steve knew the exact location of. The man rarely left the tower nowadays except when necessary. The inventor was apparently spending all of his free time repairing the damage and redesigning the top floors of what would become Avengers Tower. Before they had all gone their separate ways he had told the whole team that once the construction was done they were all welcome to live there.

 

It was an extremely generous offer and if Steve hadn't already been shown Stark's true character, hidden underneath the arrogant exterior, he would have thought the man was joking. But Stark had offered up his own life to protect the city and all the information in his file about a cocky and self-serving pampered rich boy no longer seemed so accurate. The genius was far more kind and good than he made himself appear and Steve was more than happy to admit his mistake. He had made a false judgment about the inventor's character and shaking the man's hand in parting had seemed a grossly inadequate way of expressing his changed attitude. So if Stark said his home was open to them then he believed it whole-heartedly and knew he would probably take him up on the offer eventually. 

 

The two agents and Steve already had lodging at SHIELD, but the solider thought it would be best for all of them to live in one place. If nothing else it would show that their loyalty was to each other, not to the organization that was headed by a group of people willing to drop a nuke on a city of innocent civilians. Steve wasn't sure what Barton and Romanov thought about the World Council's decision, but it was one of those few things in this century that infuriated him, that leaders could be so calloused and uncaring. Yes, war sometimes demanded hard decisions to be made, but that had been the wrong call. Captain America wanted no part in that and he didn't want the Avengers associated with it either, if at all possible. 

 

So it was partially out of a desire to remove himself as far as he was able to from the supervision of such people and partially because he had become intrigued by the dark-haired inventor that he wanted to move into the tower. He wanted to know more about the man who acted so shallow and overly confident, even for a literal genius and one of the richest men in the world, but underneath it all had a heart so generous and self-sacrificing that it shook Steve to the core. Men like that were rare, always had been. People might have been politer in his day but the ability to give up your life for others had been no more common seventy years ago than it was now. 

 

Tony Stark was a fascinating person and Steve Rogers was curious. What was the man's story? Why did he do what he did? The file he had on the man was just a bullet-point list of events, circumstances and reactions; it didn't explain motives. It didn't tell what the person was thinking or feeling or the stories behind all those decisions. It didn't tell him who Tony Stark was, just what he had done. And as much as actions spoke louder than words and the inventor had a lot of actions that would usually not be present in a good man, Steve was sure that wasn't the case here. After all, he had misread his character enough to believe he wasn't the sacrificial type. That opinion had been blasted to pieces. So Stark was a good man, he was sure of it. But he wouldn't figure out exactly why without actually getting to know him. 

 

So as he had stood looking around his bare quarters, he had decided to take a chance and see if Stark had a place for him to sleep in the tower while it was still under renovation. He had grabbed his phone from his nightstand and dialed the number the genius had programmed into it, his own private cell phone Stark had said. It had rung briefly before connecting and spilling forth the rambling of one fast-talking genius. 

 

"Spangles! How was the road trip? Did you see the world's largest ball of string? I hear it's really not that impressive." 

 

"Stark. Does your offer still stand?" He cringed a little at his own bluntness. He was gonna blame it on the lingering exhaustion that was making him cranky. 

 

There was a slight pause on the other end of the line, before the billionaire spoke again, emoting offense. 

 

"Cap, I'm wounded. You doubt my sincerity?" 

 

"No," Steve tried to drop the harshness of his "Cap voice" as Bucky had always called it, attempting to be more polite. "But I don't like to assume hospitality will always be offered, especially when the host's home is undergoing massive remodeling. And I don't like to show up unannounced." 

 

Another pause as Stark processed his words, seeming to catch the underlying meaning almost immediately, obviously understanding that Steve was trying to take him up on said offer. 

 

"If all I had to offer you was a mattress on the floor, the door would still be open," he answered seriously. 

 

Steve was a little surprised at the outright honestly. It seemed like Stark was usually the type to hide his kindness behind jokes and sarcasm, but he had been amazingly forthright in his statement that the team was welcome any time. He had thought he was getting a better hold on the genius's personality, but apparently not. Maybe he should stop assuming and he wouldn't end up so surprised every time. 

 

"Thank you, Stark." 

 

"No problem. So when are you coming by?" 

 

"Uh... now? If that's alright...?" He trailed off, leaving it open for Stark to decide. 

 

"Great. Awesome. I'll get a room ready. It'll be temporary, your floor isn't quite finished, but this place will be good enough for the next couple of days. At least it'll be better than whatever crappy room they've probably got you in down at SHIELD. Anyway, yeah. Show up whenever, it'll all be ready by the time you get here." 

 

"Thanks, Stark." 

 

"Tony. We saved the world together, I think we can be on a first name basis." His voice was light, filled with humor and Steve felt his stiff shoulders relax.

 

"Tony. Okay. I'll be over in a couple of hours then." 

 

"Aye aye Captain." 

 

Steve chuckled, but hung up without saying anything more. He stood there smiling to himself for a minute, wondering how such a short conversation could have lifted his mood so quickly. He supposed it was just nice to feel so welcomed. He allowed himself another moment to enjoy the feeling of contentment before moving to pack up his belongings. 

 

~~~

 

Stark had sent him exact directions through his phone, so Steve just drove his motorcycle to the tower and parked in the underground garage. There was a private elevator, the only one with access to the floors specifically for the Avenger's use and had already been programmed with Steve's biometrics to grant him entry. He rode up to Tony's penthouse, having been informed none of the other floors were quite completed yet, but there were spare bedrooms there that he could pick from until his own floor (not room, not suite,  _floor._ Stark wouldn't take "no"" for an answer) was ready. 

 

As the elevator rose, a voice spoke through the speakers, startling him slightly. 

 

 _Captain Rogers, may I be the first to officially welcome you?_  

 

"Uhh... sure. Who are you?" 

 

 _Sir gave me the name JARVIS._  

 

"Wait, I remember this. You're an... AI?" 

 

 _Artificial Intelligence, yes. In simpler terms, a computer program that learns, much like a growing human being. Sir would argue that I even have a soul._  

 

"What do you think?" 

 

_I do not think that information is important to my existence or the tasks Sir requires of me._

 

"So it doesn't matter to you?" 

 

 _I think such concerns are better left to the_ _philosophers._  

 

Steve grinned. "You and me both." 

 

 _In any case, welcome to Avenger's Tower, Captain Rogers._  

 

"Thanks JARVIS." 

 

Just as he finished speaking the elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open. He found himself looking out at the room where the whole team had returned to and found Loki picking himself up off the floor. The difference between the room then and now was impressive, though. The broken windows were replaced, all the debri and dust had been swept away, scattered furniture put to rights, and everything was polished back to perfection. The only sign that any of it had happened was the giant Asgardian-shaped hole in the floor that had simply been covered with a pane of glass. 

 

Steve found himself chuckling looking at it, not terribly surprised that the genius had decided to "frame" it. He wondered what Banner thought about it. He looked up when Stark waltzed in. 

 

"Cap!" He swept his arms around in a dramatic gesture. "I see you've noticed the new decorations. I thought it added personality."

 

Steve smiled a little and nodded, feeling slightly awkward. "Stark- err, Tony. Thank's for letting me come on such short notice."

 

Tony flapped his hand around, as if trying to blow the formalities away. "Eh. Not a problem. Mi casa e su casa, or whatever. Let me show you around." Tony walked through the room pointing out seemingly random items, most of which were obvious and rather unimportant. "Couch. Floor rug. Loki-hole. Bar, fully stocked. Windows. Landing pad for the suit. This floor board that squeaks, no matter how many times I fix it. Over here is the door to the rest of the penthouse - bedrooms, an actual kitchen, the library, etc. etc. Ah! Here's the kitchen."

 

Tony took an abrupt turn out of the hallway into a surpassingly large kitchen with an attached living room. The room was enormous and very open with huge windows and lots of floor space. The space to the right on the same wall as the door and wrapping around to the wall directly opposite was all kitchen cabinets, a refrigerator, stove, sink, dishwasher, the works. There was a marble island in the center of the tiled section of floor in the "kitchen" side of the room. The cabinets were clean and white in a more classic style, not the more modern kind that Steve had expected. All the countertops, the floor, and the island were black and the accents and back-splashes under the cabinets were all gold and bronze metal and stone.

 

The other half of the room was a lounge area that faced the large glass windows and looked out over the city. It was also tastefully decorated, but more homey than the front room of the penthouse. It seemed more like a place to hang out with friends and family and watch movies. It kept with the black, white, and gold theme of the kitchen with a thick, white carpet that Steve immediately wanted to sink his toes into. There was an enormous TV in front of the window on top of a low shelving system with an assortment of seating gathered around it - a couple of sectionals shoved together haphazardly, an extremely deep couch that looked like you could sit against the back and stretch the length of your legs out on, a couple of chairs - some fancy, some simple recliners. There were a few ottomans of various sizes and shapes and couple of end tables, as well as a large coffee table in front of the couch that sat directly across from the television. A few bookshelves sat along the far wall, mostly filled with books but a few knickknacks and picture frames took up a few spots. 

 

The coffee table was cluttered with some papers, a half-full mug, a bottle of nail polish, an empty plate. One of the sectionals and a chair both had blankets strewn across them, instead of folded neatly, and there was a pair of shoes lying on the floor. The kitchen was much the same - some empty cartons sitting out, an open box of cereal, dishes in the sink, and crumbs on the island. It was surprisingly normal compared to what Steve had thought to expect. Not so pristine or perfect as he had assumed any place that wasn't Tony's workshop would be. It just looked like a house, albeit a rather large one, and he found himself relaxing in the calm, cluttered, and decidedly average home environment. 

 

"What no roaring fireplace and bearskin rug?" Steve glanced over at Tony with a grin. 

 

He huffed, looking offended. "I have far better taste than that. Anyway, you can literally help yourself to anything you want as long as you stay away from Pepper's raspberry chocolate things and Brucie's tea. My room is the one all the way at the end of the hall on the left. The library is directly across the hall from this room. All the rest are the bedrooms and the main bathroom, which is next door, but each room has its own bathroom with a shower. You can pick whichever one you like, they're all made up and ready to go. And before you try to go all 1930s polite house guest on me just go choose a room and unpack. I don't have time for you niceties." 

 

Steve smiled as Tony turned on his heel, waving over his shoulder as he took his leave, shouting out his last commandments. 

 

"I'll be in the workshop, but I'll come back up for dinner. Entertain yourself until then. Go exploring, whatever." 

 

He couldn't help one last shot at gratitude. "Thanks Tony!" 

 

All he heard in reply was a loud grumble. Steve grinned before taking one last look around the room and heading off down the hall. He opened a door at random, then another, before realizing all the rooms were basically the same, just simple guest rooms in varying shades of brown and cream, so he just stayed in the one he was already in and began unpacking. It didn't take long, not that he had expected it to. He didn't own much.

 

He decided to do a little exploring first, maybe check out the library. He walked through the hall and opened the door before promptly bursting out laughing. The walls were filled with floor-to-ceiling books - there were even those roll-around ladders that slid along the shelves. But on the back wall was a large red brick fireplace and on the floor in front of it was a bear hide, head and all. A snicker turned into a chortle that turned into roars of laughter that brought tears to his eyes and left him gasping for breath. He calmed down eventually, a stray giggle sneaking out every few seconds, and shook his head. 

 

"'Better taste than that,' my ass," he said, smile still firmly in place, and went to look around and see what kind of books a man like Tony kept in his personal library. 

 

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pictures that inspired the design of the tower. Well, more like I went and found them already having an idea in my head of what I wanted it to look like:
> 
> [Kitchen](http://www.modernkitchendesign.com/images/feature.jpg)
> 
> [Kitchen](http://patriottonneaucovers.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/03/modern-kitchens-ideas-d7gifd9t.jpg)
> 
> [Living Room](http://www.onekindesign.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/07/Living-Room-Design-Ideas-19-1-Kindesign.jpg)
> 
> [Dining Room](http://www.nobswall.com/images/luxury-modern-living-room-with-modular-cream-sofa-and-recessed-ceiling-light-ideas.jpg) (just the colors) 
> 
> And maybe something like [this?](http://homeview3d.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/modern-bedroom-sets-31.jpg)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ACTUALLY MANAGED TO GET A CHAPTER OUT ON-TIME!!! Guys, you have no idea how miraculous this is, this never happens to me!! I promise to try and maintain this to the best of my abilities. You're at least guaranteed the next two chapters, because they're already written, so there's that....

"Cap! There you are! I thought you'd ran away again for another cross-country adventure." 

 

Steve twitched in surprise at the sudden voice from where he was slouched in a corner of the couch in the living room, a book propped against his thigh. "Huh? Oh, hey Tony. What are you doing here?" 

 

He got a strange look in response. "Uh, dinner? I said I'd come back for it." 

 

"Dinner..." Steve finally looked around and noticed that the sun had dropped considerably closer to the horizon since the last time he had checked. He glanced around, trying to find a clock, wondering how much time had passed while he was absorbed in reading. "What time is it?" 

 

Tony snorted. "Figures you'd be the type to get lost in a book for hours on end. I give you free range of my extremely advanced and very cool tech-filled tower and you wile away a perfectly good afternoon reading." 

 

"What's wrong with reading?" Steve looked at the man curiously. 

 

Tony just stared at him blankly for a moment before a smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. "Nothing. Anyway. Dinner, yeah?" He turned sharply to walk back into the kitchen. "I'm starving. Got any preferences?"

 

"Uh, no not really. I'll eat anything you put in front of me, don't worry about it." 

 

Steve had gotten up from the couch to follow behind the genius and almost bowled him over when the man stopped suddenly and whipped around to look up at him, a strange expression on his face. 

 

"Don't worry about it?" 

 

"...Yeah? You don't need to go to any trouble to get anything special. Whatever you have is fine." 

 

Tony kept looking at him for a moment, his eyes narrowed, before his jaw shifted and his expression hardened to something like determination. "Okay, first thing's first." He held up a finger. "Rule number one, you do not have to do anything you don't want to while in this house, got it? That includes eating things you don't like. I realize you probably grew up terribly sensible and practical what with the Depression and all and not being able to afford to be picky, but now you live in the home of an eccentric billionaire where that attitude is no longer necessary. So if you don't like something? Don't eat it. Simple as that. If you're worried about being wasteful? Don't. More than likely there's someone who will eat the leftovers. And if there isn't, all the scraps actually get shipped out to farmers outside the city for whatever strange and bizarre purposes they need random chunks of food for. Compost or pig food or whatever. So you literally have no excuse anymore for forcing yourself to eat things you don't enjoy if you're going to live here and no reason to play the part of the polite house guest. Got it?" 

 

"Uh..." 

 

"Good. Awesome. So I'll ask again. Got any preferences?" 

 

Steve stood there awkwardly, wracking his brain for something. "... Meatloaf?" 

 

"Great! JARVIS, place an order at that diner down the road, you know the one." 

 

_Of course, Sir. The food should arrive in approximately forty-five minutes._

 

"Thanks, JARV. Okay, that's taken care of. Wanna watch a movie? Have you seen..." 

 

The inventor wandered over to the TV and dropped down onto the couch, sinking into its depths and rambling about the pros and cons of various film options. Steve trailed after him, his mind wandering as he contemplated the short speech that had burst out of the man so suddenly. Tony had been vehement in insisting that Steve shouldn't have to eat anything he didn't like.

 

It was not something he had really thought about before. While he was growing up his mother had always taught him to be grateful for what they had. And honestly, with how poor they were she probably hadn't needed to try so hard. It was a good thing he had always been so small because he hadn't needed to eat as much as the other boys he had known, but even then he had still been hungry most days. He had never really quite had enough so he had always been grateful for every bit of food he got. And then during the war, rations were limited and with an increased metabolism he definitely never had enough. Steve had spent his whole life just being happy that he was able to have three meals a day so he didn't get picky about what was put in front of him. It would just be a waste of energy and wouldn't ever have done him any good to whine about it. It would probably have just made him grumpy and he already had issues controlling his temper. So taste had never really been important as long as the food was edible. 

 

It seemed now, though, that he would be forced to figure out what he liked and voice his preferences. It sounded exhausting, spending that much energy on choosing what to eat every day rather than just grabbing whatever was available. But the smile that had lit up Tony's face when he had said "meatloaf" had startled him. It was unlike any of the smirks or grins he had seen on the genius's face the few times they'd been around each other; it was a genuine smile, despite its small size, and Steve wanted to see it again. He wasn't really sure why it felt so important to see it, but it was, and if learning what foods he liked would help bring that smile back, well he supposed he could put forth the effort. 

 

In the meantime, Steve came back to the present to find that Tony was crouched in front of the TV looking at him expectantly while he held up two DVD cases. 

 

"Which one, Terminator or Ferris Bueller's Day Off?" 

 

"Uh..." Steve scrambled, trying to think of something to say to cover the fact that he hadn't been listening. "I don't suppose tell you to pick what you like would be okay?" 

 

Tony just gave him a look. 

 

Steve grinned sheepishly. "Thought not. What are they about?" 

 

"You didn't hear a word I've been saying for the last five minutes, did you?" Tony looked mildly put out, but not surprised. 

 

Steve flushed. "... Sorry." 

 

"Yeah, yeah. So the first one takes place in the future where robots take over the world and they send one back in time to kill the mother of the guy who will eventually become the leader of the resistance against the robots, but that leader sends another guy back to stop the robot from killing his mom. So the whole movie is basically them just running around trying not to die but it's actually much more exciting than it sounds, promise. The other's basically about this high school kid who pretends to be sick so he can get out of school for the day and then spends the whole time goofing off with a friend of his and getting into a bunch of trouble but never actually getting caught, which, come to think of it, will probably just irritate your pure and moralistic American sensibilities. I bet ten bucks you'd spend the whole movie scoffing and grumbling about 'young'ns these days, why I outta knock some sense into 'em!'" Tony was shaking a fist in the air, his voice gravelly and strangely taken a accented in a way that Steve supposed was meant to sound like an old man. 

 

Steve was grinning now, amused by the maundering descriptions, but mostly just enjoying the excitement oozing out of the man in front of him. He obviously liked the films with how giddy he was just from explaining the plot. The grin turned to a smirk when he heard Tony's perception of Steve's character. "Oh yeah? You seem to forget that I got into fist fights almost daily even before I was a soldier _and_ I applied to the army five times under false names and information. I'm not exactly squeaky clean, you know." 

 

Tony stopped suddenly and stared, eyes widening and throwing a hand over his heart dramatically. "You mean to tell me you're not a paragon of all that is right and good in this world?" 

 

Steve snorted. "No. Actually, if you asked my ma or Bucky they'd both probably tell you I'm a punk and why would anyone think I'm some figurehead of goodness? Sure, I stick up for people and try to do my best to fight for what I think is right, but I got no problems breaking the rules if they're gonna get in the way of that." His gaze had lost it's focus, his mind drifting into memories and his tone turning solemn. "Despite what everyone seems to think, I am not a perfect soldier. Never tried to be."

 

Tony had been looking at him with wry humor at the start, obviously amused, but now he looked slightly taken aback. The expression cleared after a moment and he shook his head, smiling wryly. "Guess that brutal honesty isn't just for everyone else - you'll dish it out on yourself too." 

 

Steve grinned. "Wouldn't be fair if I judged everyone else and not myself. If I did that, I'd just be an asshole." 

 

The other man laughed and pointed at him. "You're already an asshole. But seriously, which movie you wanna watch?" 

 

"Well I feel like now I need to prove that I'm not some mamby pamby who sits around all day acting like some model of perfection and righteousness." 

 

"Bueller's Day Off it is!" Tony swiveled around and placed the disc in the DVD player, snagging one of the various remotes sitting on the entertainment station before walking back to the couch and throwing himself heavily onto it, propping his feet on the coffee table. It was a big couch, not just deep, but long as well, with enough room for at least three or four grown adults, but the inventor had sat himself right next to Steve, only a few inches of space nestled between them. For some reason, Steve felt his cheeks grow warm and turned quickly to face the TV before the other man could think to look at him and make a comment on the flush across his face. 

 

~~~ 

 

Dinner came a few minutes into the movie, JARVIS announcing its arrival down in the lobby and subsequent delivery by an SI employee in the front room. Tony had jumped up to retrieve it and tip the deliverer, returning to the living room with plates, forks, and drinks so they could eat and watch the movie at the same time. 

 

Steve was unashamed to say he had almost inhaled his drink and spewed food all over on multiple occasions by poorly-timed laughter. Tony had laughed along as well, for the most part, but at times Steve could feel the genius's eyes trained on him while he snickered and chortled. At one point he'd been laughing so hard he'd hardly been able to breathe. Tony had to stop the movie and rewind it when Steve finally got his breath back so he could see what he'd missed while doubled over and gasping for air. Tony had just chuckled in amusement and grabbed the remote while Steve wiped the tears off his face. 

 

Now the credits were rolling and Steve turned to see the man grinning at him, his eyes filled with mirth and a touch of surprise. "I take it you liked it then." 

 

Steve chuckled. "Yeah, it was funny. I feel bad for his friend, though, having to get dragged around like that. Makes me wonder if that's what Bucky felt like, pulling me outta trouble all the time." 

 

Tony chuckled a little himself. "Yeah, I feel like I should apologize to Rhodey. I was probably way worse than that in college and he didn't complain half as much as that guy did. Although he does give me crap for it now."

 

"Rhodey?" Steve asked, the name unfamiliar. 

 

"Friend of mine. Met in college. He's in the air force now - Colonel James Rhodes." 

 

"Oh." The nickname had thrown him off, but Colonel Rhodes was a name he knew. "The pilot of the War Machine suit, right?" 

 

"Yep. That's my Rhodey Bear. You'd like him, he doesn't let me get away with anything." 

 

Before Steve could reply a voice spoke up from behind them. "I think learning to let you get away with stuff is an essentiale part of being friends with you." 

 

Steve turned to see a tall woman with fiery red hair standing in the doorway, impeccably dressed and smiling with amusement. 

 

Tony tipped his head back and upside-down to grin brightly. "Pepper! Where have you been? My life has been falling apart without you!" 

 

She smiled and bent to pull off her shoes, deadly looking things with razor sharp heels. "You know very well that is exactly what _would_ happen if I stayed here all day. I was working, I'm not going to bother with the details since you don't really care." She looked up sharply, eyes piercing. "And don't even say it's not true, because it is. You've skipped out on too many meetings to be able to convince me that you're actually concerned with what happens during them." The words were harsh and blunt but she was looking at him with a trace of amusement, so Steve just assumed this was a normal part of their relationship. Insults and banter seemed to expected nowadays, a normal part of friendships rather than a cause for concern. 

 

"Pepper, words hurt. Your words are hurting me. I always care about what happens in your day." The last part was said a little more sincerely, it seemed, and Pepper seemed to have noticed as the lines of her face softened a little. 

 

"Yeah, yeah. Anyway, I'm just here with some papers for you to sign and then I need to get out of here. I've got a flight to catch." 

 

"You're not staying?" 

 

"No, there's business to take care of out in L.A. I'll be gone for a few days." 

 

"Oh? What is it this time?" 

 

Steve turned back around as Pepper came forward and dropped into a recliner and kicked up her feet, rattling off various notes of SI concerns that needed looking into. The two chattered back and forth as Tony flipped through the stack of papers and scribbled his name across the many lines and boxes. His eyes were trained on the documents but his focus was entirely on the woman next to him, body oriented toward her and shifting whenever she readjusted in her seat. Steve watched them for a few moments before tilting his head back onto the couch and letting his eyes drift closed. This day had felt so long; had he really just finished his trip this morning? 

 

It wasn't until he felt the couch shift that Steve realized he had drifted off to sleep. He inhaled sharply and sat up, startling into full wakefulness, seeing that Tony and stood to walk Pepper out.

 

His sudden movement turned their gazes round and Pepper smiled softly at him. He waited for a joke from Tony about old timers needing naps but he just looked at Steve quietly for a moment before speaking softly. 

 

"You seem pretty tired. Why don't you go to bed, I'll clean up in here." 

 

"You sure? I can help- " Steve tried to protest, not wanting to take advantage of Tony's hospitality, but broke off when a large yawn came out of nowhere. 

 

Tony gave him a soft smile. "Yeah, I'm sure. Go get some sleep." 

 

Steve rubbed at his eyes briefly before heaving himself up off the couch. "Okay. Sorry. Miss Potts, I'd like meet you again after your trip, if that's alright? When I'm a little more awake?" 

 

She nodded, still smiling softly. "Sure, I look forward to it." 

 

"Okay." He nodded slightly and turned toward the door, almost through it when Tony called out. 

 

"Goodnight, Steve." 

 

"Night Tony." 

 

He left the room and headed down the hallway toward his door. It wasn't until he was inside with the door shut that he realized that was the first time the genius had called him by name. He didn't know why the thought made his face heat up so quickly, though. 

 

~~~

 

 

In the morning Steve got up a bit later than usual. He woke slowly, body and mind seeming to instinctually know that he was safe and letting him ease into wakefulness, becoming aware of his surroundings one sense at a time. It was the warmth under the blankets that he noticed first, how comfortable and rested he was, all the tiredness and stress having bled out during the night. The lack of noise was next - no rowdy neighbors in crappy hotels, no traffic rushing by. It was just quiet and peaceful, not a sound to be heard besides the rustling of fabric from his own movements. The bright sunshine leaking past his eyelids was next. Steve had never really liked blacking windows, even when he didn't need to be up at the crack of dawn. He just liked waking up to liquid gold spilling across the room; it seemed like a good way to start the day. The last was the smell, the clean cotton sheets under his nose and purified air of the bedroom. It was nice. No tightness in his chest from sickness, damp wool army blankets, no sweat and musk of other men who hadn't showered in far too long. Everything was just clean and pure and it was the most pleasant morning of waking up that Steve had ever had. 

 

He decided to just lay there for awhile longer and enjoy it, rolling around on the soft bed, staying in his cocoon of warmth. It wasn't like he had any responsibilities to take care of anyway, so for once he was going to indulge himself with a bit of simple pleasure and not feel guilty about it. One day of skipping working out wasn't going to hurt him and he figured he'd earned the right to sleep in from time-to-time. 

 

It was probably an hour later before he finally roused himself enough to sit up and slide out of the bed, hunting down a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, before padding off barefooted to the kitchen to find breakfast. Or lunch, rather, according to the clock. 

 

The kitchen was empty when he entered, the mess from last night cleaned up, just like the genius had said it would be. Steve felt a little bad for not sticking around to help but he had barely been able to keep his eyes open. Something about being here just made him relax and he hadn't done that in so long he hadn't realized how utterly exhausted he was. But less than twenty-four hours here and he was already feeling more energized than he had in a long while. All the tension in his limbs that made him stand so straight and tall, all the formality and politeness that he carried around like he did his shield had just melted away. He felt like laying on the couch all day long, watching movies or reading or doing nothing at all. Just laying there. He would't mind hanging out with someone either. He wasn't much for making friends, usually, but the idea of just goofing around with someone, talking and teasing sounded so appealing right now.

 

Maybe Tony would want to watch another movie? He'd had seemed to have fun with it the night before, and it had helped Steve feel so much more comfortable here, especially after all the awkwardness of their initial meeting, fighting, and subsequent parting. Steve hadn't been sure where the two of them stood upon his arrival but the inventor hadn't been stilted or rude in the slightest. He'd been far more friendly and willing to spend time with him than Steve had expected. He had thought the man would just show him to his room and leave him to his own devises. Sticking around for dinner and introducing him to a movie was a nice surprise though, and his comments and jokes about the film had been funny. Steve had wondered before if the two of them would be able to get along if they were able to move past their ridiculous assumptions about each other; it looked like that could be the case and he wanted to spend more time with Tony to find out. 

 

But Stark was a busy man and Steve didn't want to be a bother either. He had already eaten up the man's entire evening, he couldn't very well ask for another favor just because he was feeling a little lonely. 

 

Suddenly the energy from earlier had drained and Steve felt the bone-deep weariness that had lurked underneath all the tension rise to the surface. In the face of the battle they'd had, he had needed to bury all of his pain to get the job done. After that, he'd hopped on his bike and driven around the country, too distracted by the all the sights and changes to ever really stop and think about anything. Now that he finally had the chance to do so, he remembered all of the stuff he'd been trying so hard to forget. 

 

Bucky. Peggy. Dum Dum. Erskine. Durnier. Philips, even. Everyone. He had lost everyone. Everything. Anything he had ever known was gone, eroded by the passing of time so that only a few remnants, scraps and bits that hinted at the past, remained. This new world was strange and new. Some of it was good, but all of it was different and he had such a hard time understanding much of it. Things like the change and development of music and film was easy to track, he supposed, but there was so much that didn't make any sense - ideas and ways of thinking were so dramatically different. People didn't act the same or talk the same and they treated each other so differently it was like he had stepped onto another planet. Some of it he could understand but some of it was just confusing and no one would explain it to him. "That's just the way things are," they said. 

 

It was frustrating and he was lonely and he just wanted someone who would explain it to him. Someone to sit patiently and tell him why, not just what. And someone to just spend time with. He had so much free time and no one to talk to or hang out with and all of it just made him feel weak and pathetic. He was a super soldier, he wasn't supposed to let little things like loneliness affect him so much. He sounded like a whiny little kid, but he couldn't deny the fact that it bothered him, that he wished for those things. For friends. Or even just one, if it was a good one. 

 

Bucky had been all he had for the longest time, and he was enough. The only thing he had wanted then was the right partner. He had the right friend, so he just wanted that special someone to love. Now he didn't even have a friend. 

 

The depressing thoughts made him slide onto one of the barstools in the kitchen and slump forward to lean over the kitchen island, face pressed into his crossed forearms. 

 

He sat for awhile until his stomach started complaining about the lack of food. He sat up with a low groan and rubbed a hand across his face. He looked up to see Tony standing in the doorway, a mug in his hand and an expression of curiosity. 

 

"Did you fall asleep on the countertop?" 

 

"Uh... no, I was just... resting." Steve felt awkward, bringing the hand that had been rubbing his face around to scrape across the side of his neck, eyes flitting around. 

 

Tony watched him blankly for a moment. "... Right. Wait, did you just get up?" 

 

"Well, I was laying awake in bed for a bit, but yeah. I haven't been up very long." 

 

"Spangles, I would've taken you for an early riser!" Tony had begun moving into the kitchen, rinsing out his empty mug and rooting through the cabinets. 

 

"Uh, yeah. I am normally. I guess I was just really tired. And those beds are really comfortable, it was hard to get up." He smiled at the memory. He couldn't remember ever having been in a bed so nice. 

 

"Just wait till you try out your custom-designed bed, I'll bet it's twice as nice as the generic mattress I've got you on in a guest room." 

 

"You... you're getting me a custom-made bed? Isn't that... expensive?" 

 

Tony turned to look over his shoulder, a lone eyebrow quirked. "Uh, hello? Billionaire here. Money is not an issue." 

 

"I know that, but still..." Steve had never been one to just accept gifts graciously. It wasn't a pride issue, he understood that sometimes people need help. It was more like he didn't really think people needed to treat him that specially. Other people needed the help far more than he did so he didn't really see the point in helping out a normal guy like him. 

 

Tony was watching him again with that strange expression he seemed to have around Steve, like he was searching his face for something. "Wow, we really need to work on that." 

 

"On what?" 

 

"That 'I'm okay with anything, I'm not worth it, don't go through all that trouble' shtick of yours. It's okay to accept a gift you know." 

 

"A gift is one thing, Tony. You're expecting me to accept you giving me an entire floor on a skyscraper! That's so far beyond generous it's in another hemisphere." 

 

"Not for me it isn't. This is like pocket change. It's not a big deal." Steve had thought something like that would come out nonchalant, uncaring, maybe even a little smug, but it wasn't. Tony's tone was completely sincere. 

 

"Well it is to me. I just- I don't know if I'm comfortable accepting so much. It feels like taking advantage." 

 

"Did you ever think maybe I like going out of the way for the people that matter?" It was spoken quietly, softly. 

 

Steve looked up startled. Tony was watching him, a quiet and gentle expression on his face, but Steve could see the traces of wariness around the edges, not quite hidden. Suddenly he was remembering certain bullet points from Iron Man's file: Rhodey so easily acquiring the War Machine suit; Pepper being made CEO; the thousands donated to charity every year, and not just from the company money, but Tony's personal accounts; he remembered a passing comment Natasha had made about Tony always giving Happy raises and sneaking bonuses into the paychecks of employees having a rough time; he remembered reading "doesn't play well with others," a description that had been proven wrong when push came to shove and he remembered that Tony hadn't been asked to bring the team into his home, he had volunteered with no prompting or suggestions from anyone else. Maybe a custom mattress really wasn't a big deal. 

 

 _Damnit_. He still wasn't giving the man enough credit. Tony Stark was far more generous than he ever let on. Steve heaved out a sigh and glanced up at the genius where he stood, a hand still in a drawer where it had been rooting around. "You know, I seem to remember you having a lot more snark and sarcasm in your vocabulary. You're being surprisingly straightforward and nice." 

 

Tony huffed through his nose and turned away. "Yeah, well, how am I supposed to act like a jerk to Captain America? Seems unconstitutional." 

 

"You didn't seem to have a problem with it before. 'Laboratory experiment?'" He wasn't being mean; he spoke gently, more curious than upset. 

 

Tony turned around looking sheepish. "Yeah, that was... uncalled for. Sorry." 

 

Steve blinked, genuinely shocked at having received an actual apology. He was certain that Tony would have found a way to apologize, but never with the actual words; it didn't seem like something he would do. Steve blinked again. "Yeah, well I wasn't exactly the nicest guy either. I think we can both say that we didn't exactly start out trying to make friends." 

 

Tony nodded, staring down at the floor and then inhaled deeply, tension creeping up his shoulders. He looked back, eyes locked with Steve's and filled with determination. "Could we... maybe start over? Try again? I know I'm not exactly the easiest person to get along with. But I'd-" he cut off, dipping his head back down and hiding his face. 

 

Steve made a split second decision and rose from his seat, striding around the island and stopping in front of the genius to stick out his hand. "Hi. I'm Steve Rogers. Nice to meet you." 

 

Tony's eyes drifted up, flicking between Steve's hand and face, eyes cautious. He slowly reached out his own hand and gripped Steve's. "Tony Stark." Steve grinned and a moment later Tony grinned back, the tension sliding out of him and eyes softening. "Nice to meet you." 

 

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **BTW, I bet a young RDJ could totally have played Ferris Bueller. It would have been magnificent.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, for those of you who have been following this story so far, you may have noticed that I edited the title. I will be editing it further next week and completely removing the original title to change it fully to the new title. I'll explain why in a later chapter, the one I was actually working on today when I made the decision to change it. For now, just know that I believe the new title to be more accurate in conveying this love story. So yeah. That's it I guess. 
> 
> Also, I'm posting a day early because I finished a chapter a day early and I'm impatient.

“Cap, are you forgetting the one rule of this household?”

 

“No, Tony. I know I can pick whatever I want. But considering I have only seen maybe a dozen movies in my whole life, only one of which is less than seventy years old, I think it makes more sense to defer to your good judgment than to just blindly choose.”

 

“That’s what summaries are for! They should tell you enough about the story for you to decide whether it seems interesting or not.”

 

Steve huffed in frustration. They were back to the same place as the night before, Tony crouched in front of the TV, shuffling around stacks of BlueRays and Steve sitting on the edge of the couch, elbows braced on his knees and amused irritation running through him.

 

The rest of the day after their meeting in the kitchen had been much the same as the one before. Tony had gone back down to his workshop for the afternoon while Steve wandered around the penthouse, exploring and occasionally stopping to continue reading the book he had started the day before.

 

Twenty minutes ago, the inventor had emerged from the elevator freshly showered and hair still dripping, to announce that it was dinner time. They had chosen randomly from the wall of take-out menus and called in their order before migrating to the living room where Tony had spent the last fifteen minutes trying to persuade Steve to pick any film he liked while the soldier tried to explain that it would be so much easier for the older man to just make a recommendation or two and go from there. It wasn’t going well.

 

“Tony-“ he stopped, taking in a deep breath before releasing it slowly, willing his voice to stay calm. It said something to how much his relationship with the genius had already changed that he was more attempting to keep from laughing than in trying not to jump up to strangle the man. “Can we compromise?”

 

Dark brown eyes looked at him warily. “Compromise?”

 

“Yes. Compromise. You’re a businessman, yes? You choose, say, up to five movies, five movies that are either some of your personal favorites or ones that you think I should watch or would enjoy. Describe them to me and I will pick one of them. Sound good?”

 

The genius’s eyebrows furrowed as he contemplated the proposal, silence hovering over the room for a few moments. “…Fine. Gimme a minute.”

 

Steve smiled and leaned back in his seat, angling sideways at the last moment to prop himself up on the armrest rather than ending up flat on his back on the deep-set couch. He closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of quiet muttering and clacking plastic movie cases being stacked and restacked.

 

He let his mind wander, thinking back to those few minutes in the kitchen this morning when Tony had come in for coffee and found Steve slouched over the island countertop. They had both apologized, officially, for the harsh words they had exchanged on the helicarrier. It seemed both of them were aware that even if the scepter could be blamed for the slights actually being spoken out loud, the thoughts had still been in their own heads. Both of them had misjudged the other and both were sorry for it.

 

Steve hadn’t really meant for Tony to apologize, honestly hadn’t expected him to. He was more interested in finding out if the inventor’s opinion of him had changed at all, as selfish as that was. But he had realized how immensely mistaken he had been about the other man – Tony was a hero, and a damn brave one at that to be willing to sacrifice himself so readily – and had hoped that maybe he wasn’t the only one to have had his mind changed.

 

He felt a smile spread across his face as he remembered Tony’s stuttered confession that he wanted to try again, maybe try and be friends with Steve. Remembered the grin that had stretched across the other man’s face in response to his own when he had introduced himself properly for the first time since they had met. It had felt good to allow themselves a second chance. Now they could make a second go at it, already knowing the worst things about the other: their arrogance and pride, their short tempers and tendency to speak with too much candor and bluntness. Maybe they were more similar than they thought.

 

“What are you smiling for?”

 

“Huh?” Steve startled out of his thoughts, looking up to see Tony watching him, amusement and curiosity dancing in his eyes. “Oh, nothing.”

 

“Right." He looked doubtful but let it go without comment. "Okay, I have five movies here for you to pick from, but you can read the summaries yourself. Dinner just got here so I’m gonna go pay for it. Back in a minute!” He jumped up from the floor and strolled out of the room.

 

Steve stretched forward to drag the movies across the surface of the coffee table, lining them up to examine the covers and skim the descriptions on the back of the cases. They were very different choices from the ones Tony had picked out the previous evening but all looked interesting in their own manner. Maybe he should have told the genius to pick out only two or three; it was too hard to decide.

 

While he was still weighing his options Tony reentered the room, a plastic bag of takeout containers in one hand. Steve pulled himself off the couch, deciding to let his mind ponder the decision awhile longer, and walked into the kitchen to help the inventor get their dinner ready. He reached up into a cabinet, grabbing plates and glasses while Tony began opening cardboard boxes and pulling drinks from the fridge. The smell of fried chicken and mashed potatoes wafted through the room and Steve paused to inhale deeply through his nose. He hadn’t smelled anything so good in a long time.

 

“So, did you decide on a movie yet?”

 

Steve sighed. “No. They all look pretty good and I’m kind of indecisive if its not serious.”

 

“What? This is a _very_ serious decision!” Tony was staring at him with wide eyes and affected sincerity.

 

Steve just looked at him, quirking an eyebrow.

 

“Okay, fine.” He shrugged. “We could always just watch all of them.”

 

“In one night?” He knew people nowadays tended to stay up a lot later, but he was pretty sure there was at least ten hours worth of video in five movies. He couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to stay up until three in the morning watching movies, especially not if they had things to do the next day.

 

Tony chuckled. “No, not all tonight, although I’m usually up fairly late anyway. My point is, we could just decide to make those the next few movies we watch and not have to worry about picking for a few days.” Steve tried not to feel too pleased with the thought that Tony seemed to want to make this an every-day event. “Then you only have to choose which one to watch now. Might make it a little easier to decide.” Tony was looking down at the table, spooning mashed potatoes and gravy onto their plates and piling up the fried chicken and biscuits slathered in butter, one plate significantly larger than the other.

 

Steve hummed thoughtfully. “Makes sense.” He nodded decisively. “Alright, then lets start with the one about the Scotsman.”

 

Tony nodded. “Okay, sounds good. Wanna help me carry the food over?”

 

The two of them picked up the plates and glasses and strode back to the couch to spend the evening mourning the death of the brave men of Scotland.

 

~~~

 

 

“That… was a lot sadder than I thought it would be.” Steve was reclining against the back of the couch, head pillowed in the soft cushions and his hands folded on his stomach.

 

Tony was propped up next to him, an elbow resting on the back of the couch and his head tilted onto his upright fist, gazing in the direction of the TV where the credits rolled. He gave a wry smile. “Yeah, they play it up to make it seem like this fantastic, action-filled war movie, which it is, but you don’t really expect the heart-wrenching, gory death at the end.”

 

Steve hummed and let his eyes drift closed, trying to let the dark images fade away. He heard fabric sliding and felt the couch dip, the genius next to him sitting up straight and cross-legged. There was the distinct sound of a finger tapping against metal and glass, followed by a few snaps, and legs and a rear-end shifting every few seconds.

 

Steve smiled to himself. Tony could never sit still. Even during the movie he had rearranged his limbs no less than a dozen times and had always had some part of himself moving around – a hand tapping against his thigh, a foot sliding back and forth along the fabric of the couch, his arms folding and refolding against his chest. He was surprised the inventor hadn’t already jumped up to remove the movie and head back down to his lab.

 

He decided to wait it out, see how long the restless man could sit there in relative silence before talking or leaving. Steve lay back on the couch, his head pillowed in the soft cushions, trying to suppress the amused grin that kept trying to take over his face at the fidgeting of the man next to him.

 

Eventually, Tony ceased moving entirely for a brief moment before suddenly leaning back to rest against the back of the couch. Steve turned his head to the side and cracked an eye open to see the genius staring up at the ceiling with his hands folded across his chest, chewing on his bottom lip. His eyes slid sideways to look at Steve for a few seconds before flitting back to the ceiling.

 

“Why’d you-“ Tony pressed his lips together tightly, eyes flickering around as he thought. “Why’d you take me up on the offer? To move in, I mean.”

 

Steve opened both eyes entirely, turned his own face toward the ceiling, and took a moment to think about it, trying to recall what his thoughts had been the previous morning while he had stood staring at his bland and boring SHIELD room. “Because I think it’s a good idea for the team to be in one place and for that place to not be SHIELD headquarters. Because I knew you wouldn’t want to leave the tower for a new location. Because… because I was lonely where I was and thought that... You said this morning that you wanted to try again, maybe try and be friends. I guess I want that too.”

 

He rolled his head around to look at Tony and found him watching back. They sat there for a few moments, just looking at each other silently, Steve waiting to see what Tony would say.

 

Eventually Tony gave a nod before turning his face up again. “Alright.”

 

Steve quirked an eyebrow. “Alright?”

 

“Yep.” He pushed himself up and launched himself off the couch, stretching his arms over his head and bowing his back. He gave his limbs a shake before bending down to retrieve his dinner plate and empty glass. “You know what friends do? I mean, I assume friends do stuff like this. I’ve never exactly had a normal friendship before. Might as well start now, yeah?”

 

Bewildered and curious, Steve just lay there and waited to see what Tony would say next.

 

“Ice cream. We’re going to get ice cream. Come on soldier, clean up your mess and grab a jacket!” Tony strode off toward the kitchen and dumped his dishes in the sink, then turned on his heel and marched off down the hall, apparently to his own room to grab a coat.

 

Steve continued to lie back against the couch for a moment, amused and grinning. After a moment he slid across the couch and took up his own dishes to deposit in the kitchen and went to go find his shoes.

 

~~~

 

Steve wasn’t sure what he had expected from the billionaire when it came to a trip outside for ice cream, but it certainly had not been a walk to Central Park and rambling through the plethora of paths searching for an ice cream cart. They had left the tower nearly an hour earlier and had been strolling underneath the sidewalk lights ever since.

 

“Tony, I really don’t think there is going to be anyone out here this late selling ice cream. It’s like ten o’clock.”

 

“You’re so cute when you talk all sensible. Fret not, ye of little faith! New York in the 21st century never sleeps, I guarantee you that we find what we’re searching for within the next ten minutes or I build you a new motorcycle.”

 

“I seriously doubt that a new motorcycle is worth a bet of such insignificance.” He tried to sound like he was scolding but he was pretty sure he was smiling too widely.

 

“You’re right. I was planning on doing that anyway. Maybe a private art studio? You draw, don’t you? I could rig up one of the spare bedrooms on your floor, one of them has got to have pretty decent lighting. We could get you a gigantic easel and a bunch of drawing supplies. I’m sure I could get it done by the time the rest of the apartment is. You wouldn’t say ‘no’ to that, would you? Wouldn’t want to hurt my feelings.”

 

Steve chuckled, shaking his head. Tony, where he was walking next to him with his arms clasped behind his back, grinned up at him, eyes sparkling.

 

They rounded a corner, emerging from the tunnel of trees they had been traveling through, and Tony suddenly shouted in triumph, practically leaping forward toward the white freezer cart down the path.

 

“Larry! I knew you’d be out here somewhere!”

 

Larry was an older gentleman, on the short side, but thin, with white hair and a short beard. He was wearing a white apron and blue jeans, stained in the various colors of his wares, and leaning against the cart on his forearms, pale blue eyes twinkling and grinning broadly. “Mr. Stark, don’t tell me you’ve been wandering through this park in the dead of night just to find little old me?”

 

Tony smiled. “Well who else would I trust to relieve my ice cream fix?”

 

Larry just shook his head, still grinning, and stood upright to open the lid of the freezer, reaching deep into its innards for a scoop and then turning to grab a cone from the box on the other half of the container. Tony appeared to order the same thing every time since the older man started reaching back into the depths of the cold metal box without asking what he wanted, chatting away. “How’s that redheaded lady of yours doing? She decide I’m the better lookin’ guy yet?”

 

“Pepper’s fantastic and decidedly single, although I think she’s got her eyes on a certain driver of mine. Better act quick, buddy.” Tony winked from where he was leaning against the opposite side of the freezer from the owner of the cart, smiling widely at the banter.

 

Larry grinned. “Wouldn’t want to let a pretty girl like that slip through my fingers!”

 

Tony shook his head, “No you wouldn’t.”

 

“I didn’t know you and Pepper broke up.” Steve had heard that the genius and his CEO were practically inseparable when she was not otherwise busy with work.

 

Tony looked up at him, still smiling but with a touch of sadness lurking around his eyes and the corners of his mouth. “She came to the conclusion that dating a superhero who likes to fly nukes into space was too stressful.”

 

“Oh. I’m sorry, Tony.”

 

The genius flapped a hand around, a gesture Steve had seen more times than he could count already, not meeting his eyes. “It was bound to happen eventually. The stress had already almost been too much before we even started dating.”

 

“Just because you expected it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.” Steve looked at him sadly, letting the emotion color his voice slightly.

 

Tony finally looked up at him, the sorrow in his eyes making the breath catch in Steve’s throat before the inventor shuttered the expression and smirked. “She deserves better anyway. I can’t give her the time she needs, too busy. We’re good as friends, no reason to try and make it something more when it doesn’t need to be.”

 

“That, young man, is both the smartest and dumbest thing you’ve ever said.”

 

Both of the young men turned startled faces toward the owner of the ice cream cart, having momentarily forgotten the man was there.

 

“Smart because you understand how the two of you work together, and because she would definitely be better with me anyway.” The old man let out a laugh before turning serious. “And dumb because I know what you really mean. You think you’re no good, which is just stupid. Even if you weren’t rich and a genius you’re one of the kindest and most generous and loyal man I’ve ever come across. And don’t look at me like that, you wouldn’t come by to see me every week and ask about my wife and grandkids if you didn’t care and if you weren’t so loyal that you refuse to find another place to get your ice cream even though there’s hundreds of better places to get it in this big city.” Larry looked at him pointedly.

 

Tony grinned sheepishly. “Still a brutally honest old rascal, aren’t you?”

 

“Well who else is gonna knock some sense into you now that your old butler isn’t around to do it?”

 

“He’s talking about Jarvis, the real Jarvis,” Tony said, turning to Steve where he stood watching the older man scold the genius. “Larry and Jarvis were war buddies. Jarvis came back and became a butler and Mr. Bergenson bought a portable freezer and started selling vanilla cones. Jarvis has been taking me to Central Park for ice cream when I couldn't sleep for as long as I can remember.” Tony turned to look at Larry with a soft smile.

 

Larry was looking at Steve and glancing back at Tony periodically. “See what I mean about loyalty? Any woman would be lucky to have this man. At least if they could put up with all the crazy too!” The old man laughed again and Tony chuckled with him, seeming to agree with the joke.

 

“Yeah, and who are you to talk?”

 

Larry grinned again, Steve was beginning to think the man never really stopped, and handed a finished cone over to Tony. “Got that right! Wouldn’t have married the old hag if I didn’t have a few screws loose myself.”

 

“Whatever, you love her.”

 

The grin melted into something softer, swiftly. “Yeah. I do at that.” He paused, eyes drifting into the distance before he shook his head and turned his gaze on Steve. “And what’ll the big one be havin’?”

 

“Umm… vanilla waffle cone?”

 

Tony snickered. “Figures.”

 

Steve smiled. “What’s wrong with vanilla?”

 

Tony smiled gently back, smirk sliding off his face. “Nothing.”

 

There was a brief pause of quiet while the two of them just looked at each other, Steve wondering vaguely why they seemed to be doing that more and more frequently, and the sound of a metal spoon scraping up scoops of ice cream and pressing them into a cone.

 

“Here you go young man. Don’t eat it too quick, you’ll give yourself a headache.”

 

Steve reached forward and took the cone from the man with a nod. “Thank you.” He started to reach into his pocket for a wallet, but Larry seemed to notice what he was doing and held up a palm.

 

“Nope, don’t worry about it. Your friend here has been more than generous enough with me. As long as you enjoy that and keep him out of trouble for the rest of the night I’ll be paid well enough I think.”

 

Steve stood frozen in surprise for a moment before turning to look at the billionaire who had suddenly found a deep interest in his own ice cream, examining it intently before each careful lick. Steve straightened and pulled his empty hand from his pocket and nodded at the older man again. “Alright. I’ll do my best.”

 

Larry grinned again. “I’m sure you will. Now get out of here and quit loitering, I got other customers.”

 

Steve looked around the empty park and smiled. “Yes sir. Come on, Tony.”

 

Tony slid his body languorously away from the ice cream cart and slunk after the solider, munching on a bit of sugar cone all the while.

 

They walked quietly for a few minutes, eating their ice cream in silence. Steve was trying to just be content in the other’s company but something was niggling at him and he couldn’t help flitting his gaze over to Tony repeatedly.

 

Tony finally turned to look at him, huffing out a breath in seeming frustration. “Well? You might as well ask, I know you’re dying to.”

 

Steve flushed, aware of how obvious he was being. “Sorry. It’s not really any of my business, so you don’t have to tell me. I’m just curious.”

 

Tony huffed again but his lips were curling at the corners so Steve knew the man wasn’t actually irritated with him. “It wasn’t anything special. His wife was one of those women who wanted to stay at home to raise their children rather than get a job and selling ice cream from a cart doesn’t always pay the best. So I helped put his kids through college. “

 

“How many children does he have?”

 

“Three.”

 

“That's… That’s a lot of money.”

 

Tony threw him a look.

 

“Right. Billionaire. Still, that’s very generous for someone you only know because of your butler.” Steve looked at the billionaire curiously.

 

“Jarvis was… Well, he was more of a father to me than Howard ever was. And Larry was his friend. I never really got to thank Jarvis for everything he did for me when I was a kid. This seemed like the best way to make up for that.” Tony looked embarrassed and uncomfortable, fingers twitchy and eyes moving rapidly from place to place, so Steve decided to drop the questioning.

 

“Alright. So what kind of ice cream did you get anyway?”

 

“Rocky Road. Chocolate ice cream, marshmallows, and nuts.”

 

Steve’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Marshmallows?”

 

Tony’s eyes slid slowly over to his, narrowing to slits. “Are you asking what they are or why they’re in ice cream.”

 

“Uh… both.” He had a feeling the first was something he should already know the answer to but he didn’t want to act ignorant and regret it later. He’d rather just be embarrassed now and have the information for the future.

 

But Tony just grunted noncommittally and took another lick of ice cream before answering. “Marshmallows are technically a kind of candy. It’s basically melted sugar and corn syrup that’s been whipped rapidly until it cools into this spongy, fluffy mass. So, kind of like cotton candy, really, but less airy. Mostly they’re used for topping hot chocolate or making s’mores. And in ice cream, occasionally.”

 

“What are… s’mores?”

 

Tony turned to grin at him, mischief dancing in his eyes. “Oh, Captain, I was hoping you would ask that. Sadly, we cannot answer that question tonight, but put I’ll have JARVIS make a note to bring the ingredients with the next grocery delivery. We’ll get this tragedy remedied soon, you won’t have to live much longer without God’s special gift to mankind much longer.”

 

Steve smiled briefly before his mind latched on to a particular bit of what Tony had said. “Wait, can you cook?”

 

“Hmm?” Tony had gone back to his cone, munching on the last chunk of cone and trying to keep melted ice cream from dripping down his forearm.

 

“You said we have to wait for the ingredients so does that mean you’re going to have to cook?”

 

“Oh. No, s’mores don't really require any cooking knowledge. Just a microwave. Or an open fire and a stick. Depends on your preferences. Personally I like it better using a microwave, lets the chocolate get all melty too.” He smiled cheekily and shoved the rest of his ice cream into his mouth.

 

“I’ll take your word for it. So does that mean you can’t cook?”

 

“No. I can, I guess. Nothing too fancy. I just don’t usually have the time for it.”

 

“I have a hard time imagining you ever having had the time to learn.” Steve’s eyes glinted as he looked down at Tony, the corner of his mouth tugging upward.

 

Tony threw him a glance as he licked the last of his ice cream from the heel of his hand. “Jarvis taught me when I was a kid, the few occasions when I wasn’t off at boarding school before he died. Said it was something everyone should know, even if it was only enough to be able to follow a recipe.”

 

“I never learned how to cook… My mom, she wanted to teach me, but when I wasn’t sick I was in school and she was at work. By the time I started getting old enough and strong enough to be able to handle it I had to work too to start paying the bills for _her_ trips to the hospital.”

 

“What was it?”

 

“TB. She was workin’ in a ward at the time.” His voice quieted as he remembered. It still made him sad, even so many years later, but it didn't hurt to talk about it like it used to. “She kept working for months, we couldn’t afford for her to quit so she could take the time to rest, and the cough just wouldn’t go away. Great big wracking coughs that shook her whole body and left he sweating and tired. It would keep her up at night sometimes and the hospital hours were so long. I think she died more from the exhaustion than from the sickness itself.”

 

“She sounds like a strong woman.”

 

Steve looked at Tony in surprise where he was staring resolutely forward, a decisive look on his face. Normally people gave apologies or offerings of sympathy when he talked about it. No one had ever remarked on his mother’s strength, on her bravery and fortitude to keep fighting for months and months, long after the doctors had told her she should have died. Sarah Rogers was not about to let anything slow her down, not if it meant leaving her boy to fend for himself or leaving those patients to die. Steve supposed that’s where he got his stubbornness from.

 

“She was.” Steve chuckled. “Even on the days she couldn’t get out of bed, she’d still put the fear of God in me if I tried to insist on staying home from school or work to take care of her.”

 

“I can see it. Frail little blond lady lying in bed and swatting your rear to shove you out of the house with dire warnings of retribution if you come back early.” Tony chuckled quietly and muttered to himself, though Steve heard it anyway. “Must have been nice.”

 

Steve refrained from commenting on the last bit, just humming in response. They walked on quietly for a bit, both getting lost in their own thoughts as they meandered back to the Tower and rode up the elevator toward the penthouse.

 

They made it to the hall outside Steve’s room without saying another word to each other and Steve paused with his hand on the doorknob, Tony a few steps farther down the hall, but turned back to look at him.

 

“Thanks Tony, for tonight. I had a good time.”

 

Tony smiled at him softly and nodded. “Goodnight Steve.”

 

“Goodnight Tony.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually checked to make sure marshmallows were not a thing in Steve's time. Turns out they've existed in one form or another for like forever (seriously, ancient Egypt!), but it wasn't until 1948 (three years after Cap went down) that an American made them in the cylindrical form we know them as today. They had been in France before that but I highly doubt they were much of a thing here in the states, except for those fancy rich snobs who ate imported French cuisine. And I discovered all of this through Wikipedia, so you know it must be true ;) 
> 
> Also, Larry is based off of an older gentleman I know, actually, my sister-in-law's grandfather but we've known that family for like two decades, almost. And I didn't even realize that the real-life Larry is also named Larry until just now, so that's fun. I picked the name, trying to find something that had the same tone or feeling as something like Bart or Benny but not either of those and landed on Larry. And I decided at some point that I was characterizing him after the other smiling, flirty old man I knew but was too blonde (even though I'm not literally blonde-haired) to realize the names were the same. SMH.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is out SUPER early, for which you can thank YSA who I assume is stuck in the hospital right now based on their comment on the last chapter. So yeah, this chapter is for YSA - I hope it cheers you up a little! 
> 
> But that does not mean I'll have the next chapter out on Monday, I still plan for a whole week to write each chapter, so since this one is coming out on Friday, don't expect the next update until the end of next week. But, as always, I will do my best to make it sooner.

_It was cold. So cold. Crystalline shards crept in on all sides, sliding across his body and leaving red, frostbitten skin in its wake. All he could see was white. Blinding white, so bright it seared his eyes. He couldn’t see. Why couldn’t he see?_

_Blue eyes. Brown hair. Air rushing by so quickly and the smell of burning coal. Nothing but fear, a rancid taste in his mouth._

_White. Everything is so white._

_Gunshots and smoke and the smell of iron and blood in his eyes and sweat on his brow and heat on his face and cold seeping through the soles of his boots into his feet._

_Cold. So cold. So white._

_His nose burns from the bleach and antibiotics. His skin crawling from the chill in the room and the sense of sickness and death in the air. Slender fingers grasped in his fragile hand, the beep of a heart monitor, so slow compared to his own worried heart rate, and a shock of blonde hair against a white pillow._

_White. So. Much. White. It hurts. God, it hurts so much! I can’t see! I can’t breathe! It’s so cold. Why is it so cold?_

_It’s sinking into his bones, the cold the white. He can’t think straight, he can’t remember anything but the cold, the white, the pain. Invading his senses, covering all, destroying all. So much white, so much cold, freezing and growing and blocking out everything else. There’s nothing but the cold, the white._

_The ice keeps coming._

 

~~~

 

Steve startled awake, shivers running through his body and mind hazy from the remnants of the dream. Sweat stuck his shirt to his spine and made the air under the blankets feel damp and unpleasant. He was cold.

 

He threw back the covers and stripped out of his wet shirt and pants, knowing he wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep tonight. Exhaustion had kept the nightmares away the night before, but as well rested as he was now, having had a full, blissful night of sleep, he was bound to restlessness or nightmares for at least the next few days, more than likely.

 

The soldier changed into dry clothes, added a hooded sweater, and grabbed the feather comforter off the bed, hoping to keep out the cold. His bedroom felt confining and lonely, so he decided to go grab his book and curl up in the living room, thinking the hominess of the place might chase away the sensation of frostbite creeping across his limbs and the white searing his eyes.

 

He wrapped the blanket around his shoulders, gripping it tightly in his fists to close the gap between the ends and block out the cool air of the hallway, shuffling forward in tiny steps to the library where he had left his book. He retrieved it and returned to his corner of the large couch, curled up tight to trap in the heat, feet tucked in and everything but his head covered up. He thought he must look funny, just a lumpy mound of blanket squished in a corner of the couch like a gigantic pillow or a funny-shaped burrito made of cotton and feathers. But it felt safe and warm and he needed that right now.

 

He got lost in the book for awhile, letting the story wash over him and fill his head, the fuzzy and terrifying images of his dream drifting to the back of his mind for now, leaving him the time to relax and rest, at least as well as he could while awake. He let his thoughts sink into the characters, into the world they lived in, feeling what they did, trying to think how they did, wishing he could be there to knock some sense into them when they made stupid choices. It was so easy to forget where he was, that he was just reading the words off a page rather than actually being part of the story.

 

He startled at the sound of the fridge opening behind him and turned from within the confines of his blanket burrito to see Tony reaching for a box of orange juice, a glass ready for him on the counter. The inventor had obviously just come from his lab, dark pants and a worn t-shirt clothing his limbs, his hair sticking up all over the place and smears of oil on his forearms, staining his fingers.

 

He must have changed clothes and gone straight down after their trip out for ice cream, Steve thought. As the genius straightened up and turned, glass held to his lips and throat shifting as he swallowed, Steve could see the dark circles under the man’s eyes, the way his shoulders were drooping. He looked tired, as tired as Steve felt, though he knew it didn’t show. His body was fine, it could function on just a few hours a night for weeks. It was his mind that was exhausted, tired of the nightmarish images and memories that kept running past his eyes, haunting him awake and asleep. Steve hadn’t felt rested in a long time.

 

Tony finished his drink and rinsed the glass in the sink before turning around and jolting, apparently only just noticing Steve for the first time. He wandered over into the living room, leaning his hips against the back of the couch and gazing down at Steve with curious eyes.

 

“What are you doing up?”

 

“Couldn’t sleep,” Steve answered neutrally. He didn’t think Tony would make fun of him for having nightmares, but he didn’t really feel like talking about it just then either.

 

Tony just grunted noncommittally before walking around to the front of the couch to plop down next to Steve, stretched out comfortably with his hands behind his head. Steve turned to look at him briefly before closing his eyes and just resting silently, grateful for the presence of the smaller man.

 

“I’m an insomniac,” Tony spoke softly.

 

Steve cracked an open to see him, but Tony was just gazing up at the ceiling with unfocused eyes.

 

“Pepper thinks it’s probably because of my brain – too much going on, too many ideas all going too quickly for me to ever really relax. She used to try and distract me, get me to focus on just one thing so I could forget about the rest. The old counting sheep idea but not with sheep. It was easier to get to sleep that way. Once I’m out it’s easy to stay asleep, but I usually wake up with the sun, even if I can’t see it, so…” he drifted off. 

 

“And since it takes you so long to get to sleep you never end up out for more than a few hours?” Steve guessed.

 

“…Yeah.” Tony’s voice was still that soft, gentle tone that Steve had never heard from the billionaire before. He was normally such a fast talker, smooth and graceful and not exactly loud, but he always made up for it with speed and brashness. Now it was slow, he was taking his time thinking out what to say before he said it. It was different. But nice.

 

Steve thought back to all the nights as a kid, lying awake sick and miserable, unable to ignore the discomfort enough to rest. All the nights in the forest, rocks seemingly everywhere and the winter chill making it difficult to let yourself relax and slow your heart rate, which would only make you colder. All the times since waking up that he dreaded his nightmares so much that he couldn’t even bring himself to crawl into bed. He wasn’t an insomniac but he thought he had an idea of what it might be like. At least, he knew what it was like to never really get enough sleep, to have to learn how to function on less than you should and just live with the shaking hands and fuzzy mind and heavy limbs. Eventually you figured out how to compensate, eventually you forgot that it had ever been any different. Forgot what it was like to not be tired.

 

Steve found himself talking, feeling at ease around Tony in a way he never thought he could be, having been comforted by the man’s honesty, his patient company, and easy smile. He found that he had relaxed more in the few moments since the genius had sat next to him than he had in the hour since he’d begun reading. He found that for once he wanted to talk about himself, wanted to share some of his past, rather than having it pried out of him by the curios Captain America fans. Tony was his friend and he wanted his friend to know more about him, wanted to be able to share. He spoke in the same soft, slow way Tony had been.

 

“When I was a kid, whenever I couldn’t sleep because of whatever sickness I had at the time, my mom would come in and run her fingers through my hair and hum little made-up tunes. They were hardly ever real songs, she couldn’t ever remember the lyrics of whole songs and I don’t think she liked the way her voice sounded for most of them, so she’d just hum random notes, making up a melody as she went along.”

 

“Was she any good?”

 

Steve chuckled to himself. “Not exactly. She wasn’t bad, but she wasn’t great either. But she was my mom and I loved her so I loved her voice. It was soothing, comforting, to be able to hear her. And it would distract me from the pain or the trouble breathing or whatever and eventually I’d be able to fall asleep. Sometimes Bucky would do the same thing when we were out in the field, when the cold was making everyone miserable and we were all missing home. I could be on the other end of the camp on watch and suddenly I’d hear this rich, low hum vibrating in the air. He had one of those singing voices that just carried for miles, it seemed, while still being gentle and quiet. It’d get into your ears no matter which way you turned but it wasn’t irritating. Just drowned out the silence and helped you forget your aching back and feet and hungry belly. It was nice. Felt a little like being back with our family, our friends; made it a little less lonely. Bucky, at least, knew his music better than Mom did, what with all the dancing he did with the dames, so he could hum real songs, the stuff they’d been playing on the radios when we left the States. Sometimes others would join in for a bit, if they knew the tune. Of course, most of them were tone deaf so it sounded terrible.” Steve smiled a little at the memory.  

 

Tony hummed in reply, not taking the opportunity to comment, and they both sat in silence for a bit.

 

It was Tony who broke it, some minutes later, appearing hesitant to share.

 

“Jarvis, the real Jarvis, would come in and tell me stories. Most of them were old mythologies, Greek and Norse and Indian and Egyptian - religious and folk tales that have somehow managed to survive all these centuries. I remember laying there gripping my blanket tight up to my chin and wishing that I could be in those stories, that I could go on adventures like that. Usually the emotional excitement would wear me out enough that I could fall asleep, but sometimes my little genius brain and my tiny fingers would just be too fidgety, itching too much to build and create, to fall asleep and that’s when Jarvis would take me out for ice cream. He’d carry me out to the car and drive over to Central Park. I’d toddle along to Larry’s cart and he’d let me pick out whatever flavor I liked.”

 

“He didn’t think the sugar rush would keep you up?”

 

“Nah, didn’t really affect me much, even as a kid. But the trip was meant to use up whatever energy I had and it worked.” Steve could practically hear the grin from the genius, though he couldn't see it with his eyes closed. “I think they wore Jarvis out even more than they did me, if his red eyes the next day were anything to go by. But he never complained. He was always there for me when I needed him.” Tony’s tone had changed from amused to sad rapidly during the last sentences.

 

 _He misses him_ , Steve thought. He wondered if that was how he sounded while talking about his mother. He opened his eyes and turned his head to look at the genius. “You miss him,” he repeated out loud.

 

Tony’s eyes flew open and he looked at Steve with surprise for a moment before it slipped away and there was just a lingering sorrow in his eyes and around the downturned corners of his mouth. “Yeah. I miss him.” He didn’t elaborate, just kept looking at Steve with that lonely expression.

 

He was going to blame it on that face, those big, shiny brown eyes, if anyone asked why he did what he did next. He gripped the comforter in his fingers, spread his arms and reached toward Tony. He pulled the genius up against his side, wrapping the blanket around the other man’s shoulders and cocooning him within the heat of the blanket burrito, burying his nose in the inventor’s messy hair, inhaling the scent of motor oil and shampoo.

 

Tony stiffened in his arms for a moment before relaxing, but there was still a tense note of suspicion in his voice when he spoke.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“Hugging you.”

 

“…Why?”

 

“Because you’re sad. And friends hug each other when they’re sad.”

 

“Is that so?” Tony’s voice was less strained but he still sounded off balance, unsure.

 

“Yes. Besides, I’m cold, I could use the body heat.” Steve hoped the casual joke might relax the man a little more and it did, the inventor’s tone dropping toward sarcasm and the last bit of tension leaking out of his shoulders.

 

“So what you mean to say is that I’m just a space heater or a hot water bottle or something for you. A comfort object.”

 

Steve paused, debating whether to keep up with the joke or be honest. “Well you are a source of comfort, but it’s not just because you’re warm.” Honesty it was.

 

Tony stiffened again and leaned away to look up at Steve’s face, eyes wide in shock.

 

The soldier had an idea of what was going through the genius’s head. He knew enough about the man’s family life from the little he had gathered in the weeks since they had met to know that Tony had never really had people who cared about him, who appreciated and enjoyed his presence. He figured it would probably be best to actually share what he was thinking, thought Tony deserved to know that not everyone found him a nuisance or an annoyance. “I like being around you Tony. You’re funny and you’re patient with me and nice. You’ve been so generous and you put up with me even though I have nothing to offer.”

 

Tony started to protest but Steve reached up a hand and covered the inventor’s mouth.

 

“No, let me finish. I know I’ve got a negative opinion of myself and I probably make myself out to be way bigger of a burden than I am, but that’s not the point. You had no obligation to take me in, to give me a place to stay, let alone to do it for free and then on top of that to actually spend time with me. Your time is valuable and I know that and the fact that you choose to spend a few hours with me every evening just eating dinner and watching movies means a lot. And it’s _fun_. You make my day a little happier, a little better. Having you around is comforting because it reminds me that I’m not so alone anymore. I may have left behind all my family, all my friends, but I’m not alone. There’s someone here in this time that cares about me, that likes to spend time with me, who listens to me and answers all my dumb questions about how to use a microwave and what marshmallows are and where to buy good shoes from. I have a _friend_ and that is comforting. _You_ are comforting. So shut up and enjoy the hug.”

 

Steve pulled his hand away from Tony’s mouth, nudged the genius's head back down against his chest, and rested his chin in the man’s hair, pointedly ending the conversation before he could object to anything.

 

Tony sat silently for a minute before letting out a small huff and a grumble too soft and mumbled for even Steve’s enhanced hearing to catch the meaning of, before going pliant and then huddling into the warmth of Steve’s body and the blanket wrappings even more deeply. Steve hummed, pleased, and let his eyes drift closed. This was nice.

 

~~~

 

“Do you wanna watch a movie?” Tony asked some indefinite time later.

 

“Sure,” Steve answered.

 

Rather than removing himself from the blankets like Steve expected him to, Tony just glanced up toward the ceiling and called out to his AI.

 

“JARVIS, cue up Cinderella.”

 

_Right away, sir._

 

“You haven’t seen that one, right? I’m pretty sure it came out after you went down in the ice.”

 

Steve suppressed a shiver at the mention of ice and shook his head. “No, never heard of it. What is it?”

 

“A Disney movie. There’s tons of them now, the company still exists and still makes movies so there’s more coming out every year.”

 

Steve felt his eyes grow wide. “Really?” He had flashes of him and Bucky going into the theater, sometimes with a couple of girls in tow, to go see the new Disney cartoons. Dumbo was the last one he had seen before getting too caught up in the war. He remembered he had tried to go in and see Bambi after his last rejection while attempting to join the army. He’d ended up out in an alley getting beat up before Bucky arrived and drug him off to the Stark Expo. That same night he’d been taken in by Erskine and he hadn’t had the chance after that to see any new movies. Maybe now he would have the time.

 

Tony tilted his head back to look up at him and grinned at the expression that was surely on Steve’s face. “You look like you just found out it’s Christmas morning. I guess I was right in assuming you like Disney movies.”

 

“Everyone likes Disney movies,” Steve threw back quickly. “Now shush, it’s starting.”

 

They both turned to face the screen just as a light flashed over a blue castle. Steve settled back in the couch, sliding down to slouch and rest his head in the cushions, pulling Tony down with him to stay curled against his side.

 

They lay quietly like that for the whole movie, enjoying each other’s company, Steve finally feeling his extremities warm up. It was late when the film finished and both men were yawning when the credits started rolling. They extracted themselves from each other and the couch, both in silent agreement that it was time to try to go to sleep, if only for an hour or two. Steve stretched his arms above his head, easing the tight muscles that had been scrunched up for so long. Tony twisted his torso once or twice and tilted his head, cracking his neck.

 

They parted outside Steve’s door again, as they had earlier, exchanging “good nights” and “see you in the mornings.” Steve crawled back into bed, the comforter once more wrapped tightly around his large frame, and asked JARVIS to up the temperature of the room.

 

He buried his nose into a section of the blanket and inhaled deeply. It smelled like Tony. He remembered the way the man had felt in his arms, just the right size to fit underneath his shoulder and rest his head on Steve’s chest and still be able to tangle their feet together. Just the right size for Steve to wrap an arm around his back and side and be able to place his hand flat against the man’s stomach, holding him tightly, protectively. It had been so comfortable, perfect even.

 

He liked hugging Tony. _Really_ liked it. Steve hoped it wasn’t just a one-time thing, that he’d be able to do it again. He fell asleep with the smell engine oil in his nose and the sound of a soft chuckle in his mind.

 

~~~

 

Things kept on like that for the next couple of weeks. Steve would go into the kitchen for breakfast and start a pot of coffee for when Tony inevitably dragged himself into the room, eyes mostly closed and small groans leaking past his lips. He’d watch in amusement as the genius would slowly emerge from the shroud of sleep that covered him like a shadow, each sip of the caffeinated beverage bringing him closer and closer to something resembling a functioning human. Steve would chew happily on his breakfast, glad to get to see the normally so put together billionaire looking so disheveled and decidedly _normal_.

 

Eventually Tony would wake enough to exchange small talk or chat about what he was working on that day, leaving soon after to go get dressed for meetings or to work out or go back to the lab, depending on the priorities at the time. Sometimes he would come back for lunch, most of the time not. Steve would amuse himself, running, training, reading, catching up on Disney movies, exploring the city, sketching, sometimes just sitting somewhere and watching everyone else go about their days.

 

Dinner was usually take-out of some kind, although Tony cooked once or twice while Steve helped out, chopping vegetables or stirring whatever was on the stove. Nothing exciting and neither of them made a big deal out of it; just getting food in their bellies, Tony teaching Steve as he went about how to read a recipe or convert measurements. They’d always watch a movie while they ate and go their separate ways soon after, Steve to bed, Tony usually down to the workshop.

 

Some nights Steve slept fine. But most nights he would wake in a cold sweat, walls of white ice closing in around him, and he’d wrap himself in his blanket and make his way into the living room to shiver on the couch and read. Without fail, Tony would show up within the next fifteen minutes and ask to watch a movie. Sometimes Steve would say yes, sometimes he’d ask if they could just talk. They steadily worked through the films Tony found necessary for survival in the 21st century and began to learn more about each other. Some of it inane, some far more serious.

 

Steve found himself opening up to Tony more than he ever had with anyone. Even Bucky had never gotten to hear some of the thoughts and emotions that Steve found himself sharing, explaining, sorting out with Tony. The man was far better of a patient listener than Steve could have imagined, never interrupting, never judging, never teasing or questioning his feelings about anything. Not anything serious or important, anyway. The genius was a bottomless well of one-liners and sass when the two were just goofing around. But those times seemed far less frequent than their initial encounters would have led Steve to believe they would occur.

 

They were friends. Good friends, Steve was beginning to think. Maybe on their way to best friends, he hoped. He really enjoyed Tony’s company and thought the inventor seemed to feel the same. They got along so well it made the helicarrier incident seem like a bad dream. He could only see it getting better with time, could only see himself getting happier as his and Tony’s friendship grew.

 

And he was. Happy. Steve was so happy he thought he might never stop smiling. Every sunrise seemed brighter, more cheerful, and every sunset less melancholy. He couldn’t imagine where he would be if he hadn’t come to the Tower, if he hadn’t accepted Tony’s offer; it was one of the best decisions he had ever made. After the serum, of course, since it was the serum that had enabled him to be here in the first place. 

 

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Definitely based Sarah Rogers' singing thing after me.... 
> 
> **Okay, so I looked it up as I was curious while proofreading this chapter about what time of year it is exactly in this universe. The Battle of New York took place on May 4, so it's late Spring, getting close to summer. Still cool enough for them to need jackets at night to go get ice cream. And assuming we gave the Avengers a day or two before Thor and Loki took off for Asgard and then Steve was gone for EXACTLY two weeks, then the day he moved into the tower would have been May 20, which just so happens to be my birthday. Not that you care, I just thought it was a fun fact. 
> 
> ***Also, I realized a spent a big chunk of time on the previous chapter talking about a custom-mattress for Steve and all of the first chapters talking about the renovations of the Tower and yet later in the story it is clear that Steve is still in the guest room on the penthouse floor. My explanation? Hmm... Well, I assume that Steve was reluctant to move so far away from Tony since there was no one else in the Tower and that Tony seemed to sense that and just had his bed replaced with the new one so that Steve could still have a wonderful bed without having to move. Kind of a bad excuse for my own forgetfulness as a writer, but it's too late now since the story's already completed :) 
> 
>  
> 
> Did this chapter feel like it ended rather abruptly? I feel like it ended rather abruptly.


	5. Chapter 5

It was a bright, sunny, morning and Steve was out running for the first time in weeks. Over a month, actually. He hadn’t since before the Battle of New York and it was now early June. He wasn’t exactly out of shape, the serum kept him from losing any of his strength or stamina, but exercising definitely improved it. Besides, a good run could take up a few hours and the endorphin rush was never a bad thing. Feet pounding on the pavement, wind rushing through his hair, and the miles fading by, Steve could feel all his frustrations and lingering fear and sadness disappear for awhile, leaving him happy and positive for the next few hours till the high faded.

 

He had missed it. Not just the chemical cocktail but the freedom of running, the way the weight of responsibilities could be let down and this strange world left behind, rather than him feeling like the one that had been left behind. He could run faster than everyone else could move and for once he would not be the one watching backs walk away while he tried desperately to keep up.

 

So he ran. He ran and ran and forgot about everything but the wind on his face and the pounding of his heart and the pavement underneath him. He ran until he couldn’t run any father and then he took a short break, not needing any longer for his enhanced body to recover, before he started running again. Sometimes he would go through that cycle three or four times before making his way back. When he had been staying with SHIELD his runs could last six or seven hours, eating up a significant portion of the day so he wouldn’t have to decide whether to face the agents who either looked at him with unadulterated awe or ignored him completely, or to find a quiet place to be alone. He could never figure out which was the more lonely.

 

But today he didn’t need so long as that. An hour or two was enough, plenty of time between his waking with the sun and Tony’s arrival in the kitchen to get in a few miles and even get a little winded what with the lack of training over the last few weeks. He got back into the tower, showered, and headed to the kitchen, just topping off Tony’s coffee mug when the sleepy-eyed inventor shuffled into the bright room practically turning to hiss at the light.

 

Steve tried to hide his smile as he handed over the drink, but Tony’s deepened scowl made it clear he hadn’t tried hard enough. He just smiled wider.

 

Tony trudged over to a stool and smashed the side of his face into a propped-up fist, the other hand wrapped tightly around the handle of his mug, eyes hooded and listless once more, the little bit of life that had appeared during his glare all but gone already as he drifted back into a sleepy daze. Somehow he managed to lift the cup up to his lips and take a sip of the hot beverage, steam curling around his nose and cheekbones. The genius let out a soft sigh, eyelids drifting completely shut as he took another sip.

 

Steve turned around and went to the stove to prepare his own breakfast, cracking some eggs into a hot skillet and pulling milk and juice from the fridge. He would really have liked some oatmeal, but Tony only had the instant stuff around and it tasted strange, especially since they all had some kind of added flavors. He had decided he would go out and find some plain rolled oats sometime soon but hadn’t gotten around to it yet, having enjoyed staying in the quiet tower too much to venture out into the noisy city quite yet. He loved New York, loved the noise and the chaos – it was home – but right now he desperately needed a break, a chance for peace and quiet. A trip to the supermarket would be anything but.

 

By the time his food was done cooking Tony needed a refill, so he brought the coffee pot with him and gave the inventor a smile when he looked up with curios, still slightly dazed eyes. Tony stared at him blankly for a moment, before the corner of his lips twisted up in a smile of his own and he lifted his full mug in a gesture of thanks. They ate and sipped their coffee in quiet for a few minutes.

 

Eventually Tony dragged himself away from the island and went to rinse his mug out.

 

“I’ll be out for a few hours this morning, got a thing,” he said.

 

Steve hummed in response, sipping on his juice.

 

Tony set his cup in the drying rack and wiped his hands on a towel before turning to saunter out of the room, pausing in the doorway to look back at Steve.

 

“I’ll be back for lunch, though. You wanna go out somewhere?”

 

Steve was a little startled. It was the first time the inventor had suggested they leave the tower to get food. Every other time they had simply ordered take-out or cooked with what was available in the massive and freshly stocked kitchen (except for the ice cream excursion, but for some reason a late-night trip to a cart in Central Park didn’t seem the same).

 

Steve pondered it for a moment. As much as the idea of going to the store just to buy oatmeal had sounded exhausting just a few minutes ago, the idea of going out with Tony for lunch didn’t seem nearly so tiring. It sounded rather nice, actually. He nodded slowly.

 

“Yeah… That would be nice. Where to?”

 

“Don’t know yet. I’ll have to change clothes, so I’ll just grab you when I get back and we can decide then. Or you can think about it until I get back I guess, figure out what you might want to try.”

 

Steve nodded again. “Yeah, okay. I’ll think about it.”

 

Tony threw him a grin. “Okay.” He turned and headed down the hall back toward his room, shouting back to Steve as he went. “See ya Cap!”

 

~~~

 

In a rare moment of curiosity Steve had decided to browse the channels on the television, forgoing having Jarvis pull up a film or putting in a DVD. He was sitting in his usual corner of the couch, remote in hand, and flipping from channel to channel every couple of minutes, seeing what kinds of things people watched these days.

 

Steve had rarely watched anything besides movies growing up, only having been in the house of someone who actually owned a TV once and there had only been a few channels available. It had just been too expensive for anything more, either for people to have a TV or for the stations to put out more shows and channels, especially when the Depression hit and the War started.

 

His thoughts having drifted, Steve startled when he heard a familiar voice coming from the speakers. He blinked and refocused on the screen, surprised to see Tony.

 

It appeared to be some kind of talk show or interview show that he had seen in passing when walking by televisions in shop windows down on the street, news stations and talk show hosts talking with celebrities and such, asking about their personal lives, work and politics, and whatever else they felt like. It had all seemed rather invasive, but he supposed reporters had been like that in his own day too. The only difference now was that you could see it all live and find recordings later on the internet, rather than just a printing in the newspaper or hear it on the radio if you happened to be listening at the time.

 

Tony was dressed in a suit, purple shirt and tie peeking out at his throat, and seated in a soft chair, turned to face the host of the show. He was chatting about what he had been up to since the Battle, various work-related issues and personal projects that he pursued within his lab, the few public functions he had attended, and what he was doing in his free time.

 

When he had finished, the host suddenly mentioned that there were rumors of Captain America being spotted entering and leaving the tower a handful of times. Steve watched as a smile spread across the genius’s face, a softer more real smile than the public smile he had been wearing up until then. Steve felt a small, delighted smile of his own on his face, thrilled to know that thoughts of Steve could make the normally nonchalant playboy look so genuinely happy. Tony nodded and explained how Steve had moved in a few weeks prior and was now a permanent resident at the tower.

 

“What’s that like, living with Captain America?” the host questioned.

 

“Well uh…” Tony seemed to pause and think about it and Steve felt his hands clenching in anticipation. Tony didn't know he was watching, hadn’t even mentioned that he was going to be interviewed today, probably had no idea that Steve would ever hear any of this. It was a chance to find out what Tony was really thinking about all this, the invading of his home by a relic of the past. Tony was never one to mince words or hide what he really thought, even while in the spotlight, and Steve felt his stomach roiling with sudden tension and nervousness.

 

On screen Tony was turning back to the host, uncharacteristically stumbling for a moment over what he was trying to say before getting it out with confidence. “Well… The Captain, he’s the… he’s the sweetest guy as you could ever want to know,” he said shortly, a smile quirking at the corner of his mouth.

 

Steve felt heat flood his face at the unexpected compliment. He vaguely heard Tony changing the topic, bringing up some rumor he had heard about the host, but he mostly tuned it out, burying his red face in his hands because it had been at the very moment that Tony finished speaking that Steve realized he was falling in love.

 

~~~

 

Steve was still sitting on the couch when Tony came back a couple of hours later. He had spent awhile staring unseeingly out the huge windows that looked out over the city, thinking back over the last few weeks in the Tower, trying to figure out when it had started, when he had begun to fall for the billionaire. Maybe there really hadn’t been an exact moment, maybe it had been bound to happen from the start, that he had been moving toward this from the first time he laid eyes on the beautiful genius. Maybe every little moment, every soft spoken word in the dark hours of the early morning, every joke and comment during their movies and dinners together, maybe every hour they had spent together had brought him to this, to falling in love with the man who had turned out to be much better, much kinder, much more compassionate and generous and fun than Steve would ever have been led to believe based on their first disastrous days together before the Battle.

 

He wasn’t sure but he was also sure that it didn’t really matter when it had happened. It _had_ happened and he was swiftly falling in love with the man who could talk your ear off one moment and being curled up quietly and responding thoughtfully to a personal issue the next. The man who spent hours in his workshop before emerging covered in grit and grease and twenty minutes later could be dressed impeccably enough to appear on national television. The man who loved blueberries but hated blueberry pie and liked watching science movies so he could make fun of them, unless it was Star Trek, and complained about having to go to meetings and work and sign papers for Pepper, who apparently was allergic to strawberries, “Don’t forget about the strawberries, Steve,” but never forgot to rub her feet when she stopped by the Tower or to make sure the fridge was stocked with eggs for Steve’s breakfast. The man who was a walking contradiction of arrogance and self-loathing, genius and embarrassment, indifference and profound care, selfishness and self-sacrifice.

 

It was probably the complexity that Steve found so fascinating, that drew him to the inventor in the first place, but it was the heart underneath, that he had only glimpsed initially, that made him stay, that brought him to love.

 

Eventually he had turned his focus back to the television and browsed for awhile more before turning it off and picking up his book.

 

Tony strolled in not long after with a “Hey Steve,” his phone in hand and tapping at it with a thumb, head bent to watch whatever he was doing. He dropped the sunglasses in his other hand on to the island and reached up to loosen his tie, flicking his finger across the screen one last time before looking up at Steve where he had turned sideways on the couch to watch the man.

 

“Hi,” Tony said with a smile.

 

“Hi.” Steve felt his face flush, _the sweetest guy as you could ever want to know_ , floating around in his head and making him feel awkward. He wasn’t used to people thinking him nice. Usually he was just some punk who didn’t know how to pick his battles or just a dumb soldier taking orders. All be it a very powerful, superhuman soldier who had survived seventy years frozen in ice and a national symbol of patriotism, but still just a soldier and soldiers weren’t exactly known for their niceness. So Steve really wasn’t sure what to do with it, especially coming from a guy like Tony who was more likely to make a joke and tease than to give an honest compliment.

 

“Do you know where you wanna go for lunch?” Tony sauntered over to the couch and pressed his hips against the back of it, much like he had that first night weeks back when he had come to talk to a nightmare-haunted Steve wrapped up in blankets. He looked down at Steve with curiosity, an eyebrow quirked in question.

 

“Maybe… pizza?” Steve offered up.

 

“What kind of pizza?” Tony shot back instantly.

 

Steve paused for a moment. “Well, what kinds are there?”

 

Tony shot him a grin and Steve had the distinct impression he was going to regret not just choosing a generic answer. “Oh Steve, you have no idea what you’re getting into, do you?” Tony stopped for a moment, eyes darting around as he thought, speaking again with much less amusement in his voice. “Well, for starters there’s about fifty billion different companies that make pre-made pizza that you can pick up at the store plus all of the restaurants, both chains and little privately owned places. Not to mention all the different kinds of pizza in and of themselves, what with all the variety of toppings you can choose from and nearly limitless combinations thereof.”

 

Steve just let out a gust of air, sighing heavily. This future thing where you had so many options as to make you feel like you were drowning in them was starting to get on his nerves. Why was it necessary to have so much variety? He had never had so many things to pick from food-wise and it had never bothered him or anyone else. People had been just as happy getting plain old cheese pizza at the Italian place around the block as they were now with thousands of restaurants and thousands more options. It seemed like a waste of time and resources to make so many different kinds.

 

He looked up to see Tony grinning at him, eyes glinting but with a touch of understanding in the crease of his forehead. “How about I pick the place, seeing as I know which ones are the best, and you pick what kind to have when we get there?”

 

Steve let out a relieved sigh this time and turned a grateful smile up at the dark haired man. “Thanks. Sometimes it’s just… It’s just all too much.”

 

Tony nodded, not offering platitudes of understanding, since he obviously didn’t, just acknowledging Steve’s struggle. “Well, you ready to go then? I need to change out of this suit, so you have a few minutes.”

 

“Yeah, just need to grab my shoes.”

 

“Okay, I’ll be back in a few minutes, then.”

 

Tony vanished into the hallway and down to his room and Steve eventually heaved himself up off the couch to follow and grab some sneakers and a jacket from his closet. He stuffed his feet in the shoes and his arms through the sleeves and waited in the corridor for Tony to emerge, sans suit and tie, now dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, leather jacket over it all and a pair of sunglasses perched on his head. The two headed out to the front room and down the elevator, sharing glances and smiles as they went.

 

~~~

 

“No, I’m serious! People really do it.”

 

“Tony, why on earth would anyone put their dog in a dress? That’s so stupid, the dog’s just gonna roll around in the dirt and tear it to shreds. And they have fur, they don’t need clothes!”

 

“I’m not saying I disagree, Cap, but some people really like it. They think it’s cute or something.”

 

Steve just shook his head, baffled by the strangeness of this century. Tony, walking beside him as they entered the penthouse, was grinning with his hands clasped behind his back. Steve was about to part ways with him at the library when he paused. Tony turned to look at him, walking backward toward his room.

 

“Well, I’m headed down to the workshop. See you at dinner?”

 

Steve paused, debating with himself. Lunch had been wonderful, Tony’s charm and easy way with conversation making Steve feel at ease despite the morning's revelation. He had been so worried that the discovery of his feelings would make it awkward, harder to talk with the genius, but Tony was also so funny and relaxed that it was more difficult to not just fall into their regular routines, their easy way of talking. And now he wanted to spend more time with him but didn’t want to take up the man’s valuable time either. He paused, gathering up his courage, knowing that the worst thing that could happen was that Tony would say no and that would mean just spending his afternoons like he had been for the last few weeks. It shouldn’t feel like such a big deal.

 

“Do you think… would you mind if I came with you?”

 

Tony halted in his tracks, looking startled. “To the workshop?”

 

Steve took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah. I’d like to see what you’re working on.”

 

“Uh… well, sure. I can’t imagine it will be all that interesting for you, though, but sure. Lemme, uh, just go get changed.”

 

Steve nodded and leaned against the wall to wait. Tony came back down a few minutes later, back in the grungy, dark clothes he usually wore while working and the two headed for the elevator, neither of them speaking. Tony was seemingly at a loss for words and Steve not sure what to say to break the awkward silence. As the doors closed he finally decided to just repeat what he had said earlier and let Tony talk as much as he wanted.

 

“So… tell me about what you’re working on.”

 

Tony glanced at him, a wry look on his face. “You realize that you probably won’t understand half of it, even if I try to simplify it as much as possible?”

 

Steve smiled. “I’m sure I can keep up.” He knew Tony didn’t find him stupid, not at all, but he thought maybe he was still a little more clever, a little faster to pick up on things than even Tony realized. The serum had helped boost his already considerably quick mind and though he was sure the science that the genius used would be beyond him, Steve was sure he would at least get the basics.

 

“Oh you think so, do you? Alright, well if you fall behind I’ll be sure to hold your hand.” Tony was grinning now, knowing a challenge when he heard one and immediately took of, hands gesturing wildly as he talked about the latest upgrades to the suits and all the new features in some of the unique ones.

 

The two entered the first level of the workshop, all glass doors and steel floors and tables, all piled with various tech equipment and half-finished projects scattered around, but Tony circumvented it all and headed toward a passcode-protected door opening to a staircase in the corner that lead down to the second level, which he explained was where he kept his personal projects, the first floor being for Stark Industries inventions. He started rattling off a list of all the suits he had in mind to do next and how the ones he had now had inspired many of the ideas he had for more – stealth armor, a hydro suit, a deep space suit, the Hulkbuster, and more and more.

 

Steve started walking down the steps, eyes progressively getting wider and wider as Tony kept explaining how great the new armors were. He knew Tony had been flying the Mark VIII during the Battle of New York and was shocked when Tony mentioned a Mark XXII that he had been testing out.

 

“Uh… Tony, just how many suits do you have now?”

 

The genius halted his rapid speaking just as the glass door to the workshop slid open and turned to look at Steve sheepishly. “Uhh… the Mark XXVI is being built as we speak.”

 

“Tony, how on earth have you managed to make eighteen suits in just over a month?” Steve knew the man was an unparalleled genius and had a tendency to stay up late, but he knew the first few suits had taken him weeks to build. Obviously the more you did something, the easier and faster you got at it, and he knew there were machines to build all the parts, but if Tony was right he had been producing a new suit every-other day. How on earth had he found the time?

 

Seemingly ignoring the question, Tony walked into the workshop, slid a strange headset over his forehead and began fiddling with stuff, moving objects around on the tables, stepping up to a metal frame and reaching through the bars to tap at a screen, trying to look busy. Steve could see the tension in his shoulders that hadn’t been there moments earlier while he had been excitedly talking about the suits, saw the strain around his eyes and suddenly noticed the jittery, uncontrolled way he was moving, realized the inventor had been moving less gracefully more and more often in recent days. Something was wrong.

 

“Tony?” The man stopped tapping at the screen and rested both hands on the metal frame but didn't respond. “What’s going on, Tony?” He leaned against the doorframe to wait the genius out.

 

Shoulders slumping, Tony turned to look at him, face resigned, but he didn’t stop moving, agitated and anxiously striding from work table to work table, running his hands over various projects. He finally made eye contact as he strode closer. “I can’t sleep.”

 

Steve felt his face fall, sadness likely written all over it, realizing that he wasn’t the only one kept up by nightmares and he hadn’t had a clue. He didn’t say anything, waiting to hear what Tony said.

 

The words seemed to have lowered a wall inside and Tony’s carefully guarded expression slipped and he started pacing, eyes pained and darting rapidly, voice tight. “Every time I close my eyes I just see a massive, cold void of darkness and feel like I’m falling endlessly. There’s no light and no air and I can’t breath and the reactor is dead and I can’t sleep so I come down here and I do what I do best. I build things, but it’s not enough because I’m so tired that eventually my eyes don’t stay focused and my hands start shaking and I can’t keep working. But I can’t sleep, can’t even fall asleep because… Because I don’t want to dream. And the only reason I haven’t cracked up is probably because you moved in.”

 

“Because of me?”

 

Tony heaved a sigh and leaned back against the nearest table. “Yes. Because right when I’m just beginning to dread having to crawl into bed and try to sleep, JARVIS tells me you’re up in the living room reading and I go up there and we watch movies and talk and I’m able to relax enough, feel safe enough that I can fall asleep, even if only for a little while. But some nights you don’t wake up and then I’m left unable to work because my body is too tired and unable to sleep because I’m so afraid-“ He cut himself off and stumbled for words. “I don’t like… I don’t want to dream. So I just keep working.”

 

Steve felt his heart, so full of love for this man in front of him, break a little at the pain in his voice. He wanted to wrap Tony up in his arms and never let go, dive into his head and rip all the nightmares apart, protect him from anything that would try to hurt him, whether physically or in his own mind. “Why didn’t you just have Jarvis wake me up, tell me that you can’t sleep like he tells you when I’m awake?”

 

Tony opened his mouth and shut it again swiftly, staring at the floor before speaking softly. “I didn’t want to disturb you. I didn’t-“

 

“Didn’t what?”

 

Tony hesitated for a moment, a torn look on his face. “Didn’t think you would want to.”

 

Steve’s eyes widened in surprise, never having thought he could speak such raw, honest words that so blatantly revealed the lack of worth Tony saw in himself. “Tony. You’re my friend, of course I would want to. You know what? We should definitely hang out. Whenever you can’t sleep, we should hang out. Have JARVIS wake me up, or come get me yourself. We’ll go out for ice cream or make pancakes or you can show me what YouTube is. Whatever we want. But if you’re going to continue having JARVIS tell you when I can’t sleep then you have to have him do the same to me when you’re up and restless. And don’t argue with me about it, because I’ll just set an alarm and come find you every night if I have to.” Steve tried to make the last bit come out a little more lighthearted like a joke, but Tony didn’t even smile, just slouched a little more against the table, eyes still flitting uncomfortably to Steve’s and then away again just as quickly.

 

The genius inhaled deeply and spoke, nodding tightly. “Square deal.” 

 

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * The video made it look like Steve was watching Tony's interview at the Smithsonian(?) and I don't know if that was really what Missy Li was intending... if she was even meaning that Steve was seeing the interview at all. Again, I took a slight liberty. I figured the location of Steve's viewing the interview (if that is what he was doing, it might have been a totally separate scene after all) wasn't that important. 
> 
>  
> 
>    
> So while writing this chapter I had multiple revelations: 
> 
> 1\. The way I was writing the first portion, the focus really needed to remain on Steve, so I was writing from his perspective. 
> 
> 2\. However, Missy Li's video I decided after having watched it like 3 more times during the writing process of this chapter, seems to focus more on Tony - his face, his reactions, his hesitancy. 
> 
> 3\. So, because of all this, the remainder of the story will be from Tony's perspective. Woohoo! I had wanted to do at least some portions or a chapter or two from his viewpoint, but as I tried to parse out exactly which portions those would be I realized I rather liked the idea of completely switching over. I think Steve's thoughts and feelings as he adjusted to the new century and got to understand Tony and sort out his own feelings was important. But now we need to see what Tony is thinking because I think this is where his own feelings are going to get complicated. 
> 
> 4\. That being said, I think there will be five more chapters, at least that is what I am planning for. Could be more, based on what happens while I actually write (and by the time you read this I should be a few chapters ahead and will have a much better idea). 
> 
> 5\. Also, with what I ended up going back to change in this chapter as I made these conclusions, I made the decision to change the title. It was originally "Time Has Brought Your Heart To Me" but as you have likely noticed I have slowly edited the name to "Every Hour Has Come To This." I made a slight reference during Steve's thought stream in about the middle of the chapter. Maybe you caught it? So yeah, that's why I changed the title, in case you were wondering.
> 
>  


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is a little longer than normal, which should please you. It was either have it like 500 words longer than normal or 500 words shorter, and I figured it would be better to ere on the side of too much. So yeah. You get extra. 
> 
> Also, this is the first of the chapters with from Tony's POV, woot! He's kind of hard for me to write - I have a hard time balancing the inner dialogue, what I think he's actually thinking, with the outer dialogue, what he says. He's such a complex character and if you want to see my jabbering-on thoughts about that, there's a giant comment of mine about it in response to a reader back on Chapter 3. So yeah. Tony's complicated which makes writing him even more so.

So here’s the thing: Tony knew he had a terrible track record with remembering little details. A trip to Stark Industries with a basket of strawberries in tow had proven that inexplicably. But he knew that he really did remember those things, he just had to make himself slow down and think about it first. While in the throes of the passion of inventing or if he had got an idea in his head that had to be fulfilled _right now_ and when he was solely focused with single-minded intent that left every other thought irrelevant; when his mind was running at a thousand miles an hour he couldn’t be bothered to remember insignificant details like allergies. So he knew those things, the facts were buried in the recesses of his mind somewhere. He just couldn’t pull them to the forefront of his mind without taking the time to remember.

 

It was for this reason that it took him four weeks after the promise to purchase the items that Tony had finally acquired all the ingredients necessary for s’mores.

 

“ _Four weeks? That’s ridiculous!_ ” you say? Probably. But here’s the other thing: Tony could actually be really thoughtful and nice when he wanted to be. So yeah, it took him four weeks, but that was because he had decided when he made that promise that he wasn’t just going to have JARVIS add the stuff to his grocery list for SI employees to pick up and shove in the kitchen. Nope, he was going to make a special trip to the store and buy it all himself.

 

And it was when he was standing in front of the nearest supermarket, surrounded by Iron Man fans and paparazzi and little kids with star struck eyes and moms desperate for “just one picture!” that Tony remembered why he didn’t do his own shopping. Like ever.

 

So he had made his escape that day and ~~cowered~~ regrouped in his workshop, ~~hiding~~ planning his next move. And he had spent the last four weeks ~~sequestered~~ plotting. That was the only reason why he was just now standing in the aisles of a much smaller, much farther away from the Tower, store pulling a ludicrous amount of graham crackers, marshmallows and chocolate bars off the shelves, face obscured by dark sunglasses and an enormous hooded sweatshirt. It wasn’t because he was _scared_ of the masses, no, of course not. It was because he had needed a foolproof plan of attack. Cap would have been proud. That was his reason for taking so long, not a phobia of people. And if the thought of Steve’s pleased expression made something warm and pleasant curl in his belly, far better motivation than anything else, no one had to know.

 

So he filled up the basket and went to the register to pay, trying to ignore the thoughts of blond hair and blue eyes and a face lit up in a smile just for him.

 

The month since Steve had moved in had been… well, wonderful. Tony had never considered himself domestic, but waking up to coffee already made and held in the hands of Adonis 2.0 and having someone to eat dinner with every night had been nice. Even when Pepper and he had still been together, work kept her away more often than not and if they did eat together it was usually out at a restaurant somewhere. It had been unexpectedly great to just stay in the Tower and have takeout on the couch and watch a movie.

 

Of course, it wasn’t just the sitting around on the couch eating and watching movies; really, it was the company that made it so nice. Steve was… well, wonderful. He was definitely confident, almost bordering on arrogant, as Tony had originally thought; the guy didn’t back down when he believed he was right and sometimes his temper got the better of him and he spoke without thinking, but Tony knew plenty about that so he couldn’t really blame Steve for the things he had said on the helicarrier. Especially since he had those same thoughts about himself anyway.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry sir, we only take cash.”

 

“Huh?” Tony jolted out of his thoughts, blinking rapidly. He realized he was standing there, a few plastic bags full of his s’more stuff on the counter in front of him and a little old lady behind the register looking at him apologetically.

 

“We’re a small store, sir, and haven’t been able to purchase a card machine. We only take cash.”

 

“Oh. Right, sorry.” He slipped his card back in his wallet and pulled out the cash he always kept on hand, sliding a few extra bills over and walking out before she could try and give him his excessive amount of change back. He shook his head; there was no reason for any business to not have a card machine in 2012. It was unacceptable.

 

He wondered what Steve would have done if he had been there with him. Probably given him that proud, adoring smile he always got whenever Tony did something that was apparently generous in the eyes of the soldier. He seemed to forget that a few hundred dollars was pocket change, extra pennies hanging out in his jeans for months before he found something useful to do with them. He didn’t understand why Steve was always so impressed by gestures like this since it wasn’t like it was a sacrifice in anyway. But Steve seemed to appreciate kindness in all forms, regardless of how simple the action or cheap the expense. It was things of that sort that was making it really hard to remember why he had ever disliked the man and how he had ever made it through a day without seeing those smiles.

 

Steve’s smiles should have odes written in their honor, art galleries specifically intended to display all the variations and minute differences between them so that the world could be cheered by their very existence. Steve’s smiles were like sunshine when it had been raining for weeks, a breakage in the cloud cover to release a beam of pure brilliance that lit up the dust particles in the air like flecks of gold and turned the dismal, dark, gray world into one of beauty and life. Steve’s smiles were like a glass of cool water, running with beads of condensation, parching your tacky mouth and dry throat, sending relief pouring through your tired limbs. Steve’s smiles were like your favorite song on the radio at the end of a bad day or that pleasant rush after the first bite of ice cream or the feeling of being held close and tight against the warm body of someone you love.

 

Well, at least Tony was assuming about the last one. It wasn’t a feeling he was familiar with. But he was starting to think that if it were Steve’s arms he was curled up in, he might start to have an idea of what that might be like. He had known he had a crush on Captain America for years, but Steve Rogers was a different story. Steve Rogers was not the wholesome goodness of his superhero counterpart. Steve Rogers was snark and sarcasm buried under first-time meetings of politeness and cool respect and wrapped up in blunt honesty and an inability to hold back what he really thought when he was with people he knew to be trustworthy or who deserved a kick in the pants. Steve Rogers was kindness and generosity personified for the underdogs and the little guys but the wrath of God himself for bullies and tyrants. Steve Rogers was childlike joy and innocent obliviousness, and a tactician’s quick mind and stubbornness powerful enough to fight the changing of the tides, and a virgin’s level of embarrassed blushing and a mouth to make a sailor cringe in equal portions. He was a walking contradiction of recklessness and common sense, pride and humility, shyness and bold bravery, and Tony was falling head over heels for him too fast for the breaks to even slow him down. By the time he had realized what was happening, it was too late. Every time those baby blues looked down at him sparkling like the stars he fell a little more.

 

So yeah. Steve’s smiles. They were awesome and took Tony by surprise every time they were directed his way and kind of took his breath away. He would feel this little catch in his chest, right behind the arc reactor, and his lungs would freeze and throat would close up, just for a moment, shocked to have that much happiness directed at him, there _because_ of him, before all the air left in a rush and the strange sensation would flee leaving behind nothing but warmth. It was a truly bizarre feeling, strange and uncomfortable and stressful on his already damaged heart and Tony never wanted it to stop happening every damn time he saw Steve’s eyes light up and lips pull back into one of those achingly beautiful smiles. It was going to cause problems one day.

 

~~~

 

“Steeeeeeve!” Tony shouted for the soldier as soon as the elevator door opened, unable to contain his excitement. He sped into the kitchen and dumped his purchases all over the island, only to have the plastic bags burst open to spill their contents across the marble countertop. A box of graham crackers slid to the other end and a couple bags of marshmallows tumbled over one another before falling to the floor. The remainder of the ingredients created a mound a foot high; a hodgepodge of assorted packages peeking out from behind one another and burying themselves in the most irregular ways, like an eclectic and quirky modern art sculpture.

 

Tony stood there in dismay, staring at the wreckage as Steve walked in and stopped in his tracks, eyes scanning the room and taking in the disaster that had become what was once the kitchen island. He then turned his gaze on Tony, watching him for a brief moment before turning his face away and bringing a hand up to his mouth. His shoulders started shaking and his eyes crinkled, a soft and choked sound leaking past his fingers and Tony realized he was laughing.

 

Scowling, Tony bent to pick up the bags from the floor. “What are you laughing at?”

 

Still snickering, Steve turned to him, a beatific smile in his sparkling eyes and lingering around his mouth. “You just sounded so excited when you called me but when I got in here I just saw you standing like a statue staring at the mess like it was the person who had stolen the last cookie and you hadn’t gotten any yet.” He chuckled again, but started organizing the pile on the counter. “It was funny.”

 

“Uh huh.” Tony kept his scowl on, retrieving the runaway marshmallows and adding them to Steve’s neat piles.

 

“I’ve never seen you look so sad.”

 

Tony looked up to see him trying and failing to hide an impish grin. “Alright, out with it.”

 

“What?” Steve somehow managed to morph his expression from one of mischief to one of perfect innocence in less than a second.

 

Tony wasn’t falling for it. “What’s the grin for, you’re obviously thinking of something that you know full well will get my ire up, so out with already.” It was hard to keep up the gruff annoyance in his tone, he could feel his own grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he reached out to grab the graham crackers from the other end of the island.

 

Steve’s smile grew bright, eyes dancing with mirth. “It’s kind of cute, that pout you get.”

 

Tony dropped the box of crackers.

 

Steve continued, oblivious to the inventor’s stupefied state. “Your big brown eyes get even bigger and kind of shiny and your lower lip, honest truth, sticks out a little, and your shoulders slump and you turn into this little kid who’s just found out his puppy ran away.” He finally ceased speaking and shuffling s’more ingredients around and looked over at Tony, whose eyes were widening.

 

The genius knew what he must look like right now – mouth hanging open, eyes wide in shock, one hand still held still in the position of gripping the box that had slipped out of his slack grip to the floor. Completely flabbergasted, that was probably the expression on his face right now. It wasn’t a good look. He quickly slammed his mouth shut and crouched to pick up the crackers.

 

“…Tony?”

 

“What?” he asked, tone shorter than he intended but he was trying desperately to cover up how badly Steve had caught him by surprise. As much as he was getting more comfortable around the soldier, more open and honest with himself and able to show what he was really like underneath all the bluster, it still wasn’t something he was used to being able to do with anyone. It was harder to deal with when Steve was his usual oblivious 1940s self, spouting things that no one would say anymore unless they were _trying_ to give the wrong impression. So although the comment had made the blood rush to his face and his lungs constrict and his heart swell with hope, he pushed it all down, buried it in a mountain of disbelief and denial, and sat on top of it for good measure.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“Me? I’m fine, just lost my grip for a second, no big deal.” Steve was still looking at him skeptically, but the genius just barreled on, hoping the soldier would drop it. “Okay, so anyway, you’re probably wondering what all this stuff is for. This here, is everything needed to make a mountain of s’mores.”

 

Steve eyed the piles of food, doubt clear in his expression. “Graham crackers, chocolate, and marshmallows? This is what is going to make ‘God’s special gift to mankind’?”

 

Tony grinned. “Oh ye of little faith! Prepare to eat your words!”

 

~~~

 

“Oh my god!” Steve was practically moaning, chocolate running down his wrist and flecks of marshmallow stuck to his lips, crumbs littering the countertop. This had to be his tenth s’more, at least. “I don’t think I’ll ever get over how good these are.”

 

Tony just grinned, munching contentedly on his own s’more, having only consumed two or three in the time Steve had devoured close to a dozen. “I told you.”

 

“You did, you really did.” His eyes drifted closed in bliss as he took another bite, fitting almost half the s’more in his mouth at once. His cheeks were flushed from happiness and his eyes glinting in the bright lights of the kitchen, his body practically vibrating in excitement.

 

He was beautiful like this, Tony thought, face messy as a toddler's and all. He found himself grateful to be able to see the normally serious man looking so giddy, face lit up with childlike glee. Steve smiled easily when he was happy but even then there was usually a touch of sadness to it, a shadow lurking in his eyes that bespoke a pain and a loneliness that never quiet went away. For once, Steve’s face was entirely joyful, all hints of sorrow erased at the simple pleasure of a really good dessert.

 

Tony couldn’t help the curl of pleasure in his gut at having been the one responsible for putting that elated expression on his face. He wanted to keep him smiling like that forever, chase away all the man’s hurts and the loneliness that he knew followed the Man Out of Time everywhere he went, too misplaced to feel like he belonged, too much lost to ever feel whole and normal. The quiet confessions from the soldier late at night had torn at Tony’s damaged heart, making it ache with desperate yearning to comfort him, to be the friend he needed to keep the sadness at bay. Maybe more than a friend, he was beginning to wish, but it wasn’t something he could have. Steve couldn’t possibly want him like that so Tony would simply content himself with being near, with making him smile and laugh and ensuring he was happy. He could be content with that, despite the growing longing for so much more.

 

He smiled softly at the man where he sat chewing cheerfully, the evening sun turning his hair fiery red and flushing his golden skin.

 

Steve looked up at him then, smiling brightly but the expression froze and slowly turned curious and then focused as he watched Tony who had wiped his own smile away as soon as he realized Steve had turned his gaze on him, knowing it would give away too much. But Steve just continued to watch him, lowering the last bit of his s’more to hover over the plate in front of him, pondering fiercely, if the razor sharp focus of his gaze was anything to go by. After a long, awkward moment of him blatantly staring and Tony averting his eyes and trying desperately not to shift in his seat, Steve set his s’more down, brushed his hands off, and seemed to settle into his seat, determination spreading across his expression.

 

“Tony. I’d like to take you out on a date.”

 

It was the second time in ten minutes that Tony had dropped something. This time, his s’more scattered crumbs across the table and splashed gobs of melted chocolate over the plate. For the second time in ten minutes Tony gaped, mouth hanging open like a dying fish, mind halted as he tried to think, think of anything, anything at all, besides WHAT?!

 

Steve was still looking at him determinedly and was beginning to offer an explanation. “I like you. And I don’t even know if you like men but I have to say it. I’ve lost so much already because time moved on without me and I just couldn’t go on without saying anything, I don’t want to let the opportunity go by and be left wondering ‘what if?’ So I like you. A lot. And I wanna take you out, want to see if this could work.”

 

Tony had managed to get his jaw shut but was still completely at a loss for words, his mind running at the speed of zero for the first time in his life; all genius ideas halted, all strains of thought disappeared into the ether, all of his access to his usual massive vocabulary blocked and shut down. He was silent, inside and out, still trying to understand how those words could ever have actually been spoken out loud, could be real. There was no way this magnificent, beautiful, stubborn, intelligent, good, arrogant, brave man could be interested in Tony like that. Tony just wasn't that lucky. He wasn't allowed genuinely good things in his life, not really. He might get to hold them for a bit, borrow them you might say, but he always had to give them back, scuffed up for the rough handling they endured while in his temporary possession. And they never came back, people knew better. So no, there was no way.

 

“I… don’t think that’s a good idea.”

 

Rather than the devastated expression Tony had thought would appear on Steve’s face, he just continued to watch Tony intently, the determined set to his eyes never wavering. “And why is that? Are you not interested?”

 

“Because I’m me and you’re… you.” His eyes were flitting around nervously, unable to focus on anything as he frantically wracked his brain for a good reason. “And I just don’t think it would work. No point in pursuing something doomed from the start, right?” He knew it was a terrible excuse, but his train of thought was still having trouble getting back on its tracks, let alone catching up to its usual speed.

 

“Tony,” Steve said, sounding slightly angry.

 

“Yeah?” he asked weakly.

 

“If you’re honestly not interested in me then just say so and I’ll drop it and never bring it up again. But if that’s the best excuse you’ve got you’re going to have to do better. So, do you like me or not?”

 

Tony's mouth opened and closed a couple of times, like a fish gulping for air. And that was how he felt really, gasping for words to express the eloquent and perfectly logical conclusions he was sure were floating around in his head somewhere. “I…” He slammed his mouth closed, knowing nothing that came out of it right now would be anything good. He couldn’t lie, he couldn’t, not to Steve. He wanted to say he wasn’t interested, wanted to tell Steve there was no way he could be and that he should just forget the conversation had ever happened. But he couldn’t look the man in the eye and deny the truth that he knew was swimming through his chest like liquid sunlight whenever he was with Steve.

 

But more than a date, more than kissing those thin, soft-looking lips, more than the chance to curl up in those arms every night, Tony wanted Steve’s friendship. He wanted late nights watching movies after nightmares or insomnia, he wanted someone to tease and be teased by when he was feeling grumpy and stubborn, he wanted to go out for midnight trips for ice cream and visit every restaurant in the city forcing the soldier to try every food under the sun till he figured out what were his favorites. And every good thing Tony had ever gotten to grasp, whenever he had gotten everything he wanted, it always got ripped away and never came back. And he wasn’t going to lose this. The last few weeks with Steve in the Tower had been like finding out he’d been living without enough oxygen his whole life, up in the mountains, and coming down to the valley and figuring out just how far he could run, how strong he could be, when he could breathe properly. He was not going to ruin it by letting himself have everything he wanted, by taking Steve’s offer and admitting that he wanted more. All it would do is give him a few weeks, maybe even months, of pure happiness, only to get torn away and leave him lonely and broken all over again. He couldn’t do it, not again.

 

He’s not ashamed to say he fled after that, leaving Steve in the kitchen alone to clean up the mess and fleeing to his workshop so that those baby blues wouldn’t drag out the truth and ruin the one good thing he had.

 

~~~

 

Tony’s also not ashamed to say that he may have avoided Steve for the next day or two, which he knew kind of defeated the point of trying to keep from ruining their friendship, but he just needed the time to get his head on straight, to calm down, get his mind back on track and functioning at full capacity, and _think_.

 

The thing was, he _wanted_ to tell Steve how he felt, that he was beautiful and smart and generous and there was nothing in the world Tony wanted to do more than go on a date with him (except maybe he kiss him, for like hours and _hours_. _God_ , he wanted to kiss Steve forever), but he couldn’t. He couldn’t risk it. He’d already had his heart broken once and he couldn’t bear it a second time.

 

Pepper leaving him had honestly been a wise decision, he couldn’t argue against that, but it had still hurt and he never wanted to feel that way again. And Steve, dare he say it, was even more wonderful than the magnificent Ms. Potts so the risk of heartbreak was even steeper. And he just wasn’t sure that much risk was worth it, wasn’t sure the happiness he could have for however long Steve decided to keep him around would outweigh the ache that would come later.

 

So he ran away. Yes, ran away, like a frightened field mouse, and stayed in his workshop for two days working until today, until the wee hours of the morning when JARVIS assured him the other resident of the Tower’s penthouse had gone to bed before sneaking into his own for a few hours of sleep.

 

He was exhausted enough from both his long stint in the workshop and the emotional rollercoaster he had been going through, that he slept until almost noon, rising just in time to shower and wander into the kitchen as Steve was pulling a carton of milk out of the fridge. He looked up, startled, when Tony shuffled in and headed straight for the coffee machine to start a pot brewing, hand still halfway to the shelf where the milk was. He recovered quickly though, pulling it out to place on the counter before rounding on Tony with a strange expression on his face. It looked like he was both pleased and concerned, angry and excited, disappointed and hopeful all at the same time; it was a weird expression, shifting constantly with the turbulent emotions that he must have been feeling to make such a complicated face.

 

“Hi Tony,” was all he ended up saying, soft and tentative like he was afraid of scaring Tony away.

 

Tony just grunted in reply.

 

“I, uh. Was about to figure out something to do for lunch. I was thinking about going to that diner down the road. Do you want to come?”

 

Tony looked over his shoulder to eye the man suspiciously.

 

“Not as a date. Just. I haven’t seen you in a couple of days. I miss hanging out.”

 

Tony turned around fully to take in the man’s downturned mouth and hopeful eyes, the slump of his normally tall and straight shoulders and the dark circles above his cheekbones. He looked tired. He looked like how Tony was sure he looked himself, based on the weight of his own exhaustion. He had gone to bed last night but hadn’t really slept, what with all the nightmares. Maybe Steve had been having a rough time these last couple of days too.

 

“Yeah, alright.”

 

“Yeah?” The hope in his eyes grew and before Tony could say anything more, Steve ran out of the kitchen and down the hall, calling out that he was going to grab his wallet.

 

Tony just sighed quietly and let himself smile a little before going to do the same.

 

They met at the elevator and rode down together, walking side-by-side to the diner Steve wanted to eat at. The weather was nice so they sat down outside, ordering sandwiches and cold drinks that seemed to fit with the mood of the sunny day.

 

It was quiet for awhile, Steve leaning back in his chair, eyes closed and letting the sunlight wash over his skin, Tony watching him or fiddling with the silverware in equal measures. Eventually Steve tilted forward again, bracing his elbows on the table, and mentioned a movie he had come across while browsing Tony’s shelves and wanted to know the inventor’s opinion on it. The question sparked a conversation and the two took off like normal, chatting about everything and nothing, awkwardness forgotten as they fell into their comfortable routines of talking and teasing. The waitress was delivering their bill before Tony realized it.

 

“Here you go, guys. We’re a little short-staffed today and I’ve got a lot of customers to take care of. Would you mind going to the front counter inside to pay?”

 

“No problem,” Tony answered, sliding out of his chair.

 

“Thank you so much! I hope you enjoyed your meal!” She spun off as quickly as she had arrived, balancing a full tray in one hand and pulling out another bill folder from her apron pocket with the other as she darted off to the next table.

 

“I’ll get this.” Tony snagged the bill folder off the table and went inside to pay and use the restroom, knowing Steve would probably want to walk around for a bit before heading back to the Tower. He usually did after a meal out, something about wanting to give the food time to settle.

 

When he got back, he found Steve hunched over the table, pen in hand and a quick sketch of the bit of the Tower that you could see from this angle scribbled on a piece of paper. Steve started to snatch it up and stuff it in his pocket, but Tony threw his hand out to stop him.

 

“Wait wait wait wait wait! What’s this?”

 

Steve flushed and ducked his head. “It’s just a sketch, not even a very good one.”

 

“It looks pretty good to me, especially since you did it in like five minutes.” He paused for a moment, thinking. “It's really good, you should draw more often. That’s my new favorite thing about you.”

 

“Tony!”

 

“No, seriously! Stark Tower. You just drew my baby, my magnificent creation on a piece of scrap paper in five minutes and are acting like it’s no big deal.”

 

“Well it’s not.” Steve finally stopped blushing and gave him a grin.

 

“Whatever. I think it’s amazing. You’re amazing,” he said softly, fondly. And then he froze, eyes going wide as he realized what he’d said, not having meant for the last bit to come out and cringing on the inside knowing Steve had seen his moment of panic. 

 

Steve grinned wider, going from sassy to joyful. “Yeah? You know, that doesn’t sound like ‘uninterested’.” He was watching Tony with a knowing look in his eye, daring him to deny it.

 

Tony just looked back, his shock dying away quickly and the panic from two days ago not making an appearance, a sense of calm wash over him. He was starting to think there wasn’t any point in denying it any longer. He wanted something more, wanted it terribly. And maybe it would all end in heartache and crying and drowning his sorrows in a bottle of scotch, but if he could have just a few months with Steve, with this wonderful man at his side wouldn’t it be worth it? Just to be able to say for however long he could that he was with _Steve Rogers_ , that Steve Rogers wanted him, even just a little, even if only for a little while? He might never get a chance like this again, to be as happy as he knew he would be with Steve, ever again. Shouldn’t he follow Steve’s way and jump at whatever chances he had before he lost them entirely?

 

Steve was snagging his belongings off the table and stuffing them in his pockets, still grinning up at Tony. “If it doesn’t go well, if you still don’t want to after that, I’ll let it go. But, come on, _one_ date, that’s all I’m asking.”

 

Tony smiled.

 

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's my Tony. I'm trying really hard to not make him just a shy, scared little boy on the inside because I think so many years of putting up with shitty people and wearing a mask has actually made him tougher, more bold and less sensitive. But as much as movie Tony never really seems to show any insecurities there's this underlying oddness sometimes, I think, to the things he says. The come out sounding really narcissistic and arrogant but it's almost like he's overcompensating? Trying to cover up what he really thinks about himself? I dunno, I think sometimes we fans might read too much into things and make Stark out to be more emotionally damaged than he really is in the movie verse. However, I think Missy Li's video shows him as much more shy and awkward and unsure than the films do, which is perfectly fine. I love those versions of Tony too and will probably write him that way for any original fics I write in the future, I'm just not sure if it's accurate to the movies. Whatever. *End soapbox. 
> 
>  
> 
> ** That s'more thing? Totally me. S'mores and Moose Tracks ice cream are better than just about anything in the whole world. And I freakin love that scene where Steve is eating them. I think it may be one of the more adorable moments and I love it without really knowing why. 
> 
>  
> 
> In case you're wondering.... I have the next chapter written - the date is nigh! - and am working on the following one. I plan for there to be one more full chapter after that, so nine full chapters, and the tenth will be an epilogue. So we still have a month left together! Isn't it exciting? 
> 
> On a side note, I am not ashamed to say that I went and looked at the year 2012 on the calendar on my phone to see what days of the week all of this stuff is happening. 
> 
> Battle of New York: Friday  
> Steve moving into Tower: Sunday  
> S'mores incident: Tuesday  
> Steve asking Tony out at Restaurant: Thursday 
> 
> And I am planning for their date to be on Saturday night, as most dates tend to be (at least that's how it's been for me).


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the general consensus was for a slightly longer chapter with a semi-suspensful ending. So that's what you get. Thank you, all of you for your swift replies! Your comments were good in helping me think through the pros and cons and process the details of what was happening in the story and how I wanted to get it presented.
> 
> I got the next chapter done early and I am so excited for this story that I decided to post this chapter early too. I just don't like waiting and I know I wouldn't want to be kept waiting either. So here you go!

Tony was standing in his closet, naked and baffled. He’d already showered and trimmed his beard, but now was at a loss as to what to wear. He and Steve were going on their first official date tonight and the genius was discovering for the first time in his life what it felt like to have butterflies flitting around in his stomach.

 

The problem was that no date he had ever been on had been important. By the time he and Pepper had started dating he already knew her inside and out and knew she knew all of the bad bits about him and more and there was nothing that he could do that would scare her away. Steve knew him well - he’d whispered secrets and thoughts in the dark to Steve that he’d never shared with anyone before and though he was certain the soldier knew him well there were some things about a person that could only be discovered through time or in certain situations that they hadn’t yet been through together. Tony knew there were still ugly, unappealing parts of himself that Steve hadn’t seen and though he was sure the man would never hate him for them that didn’t mean he wouldn’t decide a romantic relationship was too much of a hassle.

 

It didn’t help that Steve was so wonderful. How was Tony supposed to compare to all that golden, all-American goodness? Those strict morals and bright smiles and rippling muscles and baby blue eyes? That sense of honesty and trustworthiness that practically oozed out of him and his ability to make people feel safe, looked after, protected? How he was so stubborn it made Tony’s head ache but it only made him a better person because he would never back down from what was right or the way his mind worked both in the field as a tactician and off when it came to figuring out how people feel? Tony knew how to manipulate a crowd, how to read a person’s mind and discover the liars and the cheats, how to call people out on their deceit and wrongdoings and put them in a position to make things right, but Steve could listen to a person and understand their pain, sense their dreams, feel their joy and heartache and fear and desires.

 

How was Tony ever supposed to be worthy of that? For once he looked around at all the expensive suits and elegant clothes and felt himself shrinking, becoming more inadequate and insignificant by the second when he thought about a strong jaw set with determination and fierce, blazing blue eyes and a spangley costume that promised justice and peace to the masses. Suddenly nothing he had seemed appropriate to wear in that man’s presence, nothing seemed sufficient to make Tony look his equal. Everything was either too casual or would just make it seem like he was trying too hard.

 

He was pulled from his maudlin thoughts by JARVIS speaking.

 

 _Sir, you have a call coming in from Director Fury_.

 

Tony sighed, knowing it would be better to just take it than make the man wait and then have to deal with the possibility of being interrupted during his date.

 

“Put him through, J.”

 

_Of course, Sir._

 

“Stark.” Fury sounded like his usual impatient, grouchy self.

 

“Nick! Long-time-no-see. How’s it going up in the clouds?”

 

“Stark, this isn’t a social call.”

 

“Never thought it would be. What’s up?”

 

“We’re having an issue with the reflector panels on the helicarrier. We got shot at during our latest mission but I don’t have the time to land and we have no means of looking at it up close while we’re in the air.”

 

“So you want me to come play window washer for you?”

 

“More or less. We’re pretty certain something just got shifted out of place but not damaged, so it should be a quick fix.”

 

Tony glanced at the clock on the wall of his closet, noting the time. He was supposed to be meeting Steve soon. “Can it wait? I kind of have an important meeting tonight.”

 

“Well considering we’re flying over the country with no means of deflecting radar detection or avoiding being spotted by every passerby who decides to look up, no, it can’t. You’ll have to tell your date that you might be a little late.”

 

Tony sighed, knowing there wasn’t any way to get out of this. He couldn't very well leave that many SHIELD personal unprotected. Steve would understand, as much as he hated to admit it. A small part of him wanted to smirk, knowing Pepper would be surprised at such a mature response as this.

 

“Yeah, alright. I’ll be up there soon.” He waved a hand in the air and had JARVIS cut the call before Fury could say anything else. “JARVIS, get their location and program the route into the Mark XII.”

 

_Right away, Sir._

 

He was down in the lab, suit wrapping around his limbs before he realized he needed to let Steve know he might be a little late. Deciding it would be in bad taste to tell him over the coms, he took the elevator up and trudged down the hall to Steve’s room, not bothering to take off the suit since he’d just be flying out from the front platform anyway. He rapped a metal-encased hand on the door, lightly, having long since figured out fine motor control.

 

Steve opened the door distractedly, gaze trailed at something behind him in his room, still dressed in the green polo and jeans he’d been wearing all day. He looked up and froze as he took in the sight of Tony in full armor in the hallway, eyes widening for a moment before he ducked his head and breathed out a laugh.

 

Tony flipped the faceplate up on the armor, holding back his own smile. “What?”

 

Steve started to look up, trying to school his expression, but laughed again, bowing over and pressing a fist to his moth, shaking his head and grinning goofily. “I’m so sorry.” His voice was laced with laughter but he managed to calm down enough to wipe the smile from his mouth, though his eyes still sparkled as he pressed a hand to his chest and looked at Tony with a serious expression. “You look beautiful,” he said with affected sincerity.

 

Tony felt his eyes roll. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

 

Steve was grinning again as he watched him, but his eyes went curious after a moment. “You’re a little early, you know.”

 

Tony looked at him and felt the amusement drain out of him. “Yeah, Fury called. Some emergency with the reflector panels on the helicarrier. I’m the only one who can fix it and they kind of need it done right away. It shouldn’t take too long, I just wanted to let you know I might be a little late. Maybe it would be better if I just meet you at the restaurant?”

 

Steve’s face had fallen a little, but he seemed more resigned and accepting than upset. “Yeah, I guess that would be smart.” He turned to the nightstand near the door and picked up a pad of paper and a pen and started scribbling. He tore off the piece of paper after a moment and handed it to Tony. “Here’s the address. I’m planning to get there about seven; I’ll wait outside for you?”

 

Tony skimmed the paper, quickly memorizing the address, and hummed in agreement. He unfolded the armor enough to put the address in his pocket and looked up at Steve. “I’m sorry about this but if I didn’t go he probably would have sent someone down on a quinjet and kidnapped me.”

 

Steve smiled a little and nodded. “I know, nothing you can do about it. But it won’t take long anyway, so don’t worry about it. Just go on, I’ll see you in a bit.”

 

Tony nodded and shut the faceplate on the armor. He turned to walk toward the front of the tower and out onto the launch pad where he took off into the sky.

 

~~~

 

 

 _Shit. I am SO late. This sucks_.

 

Tony was practically running down the street, having gone back to the Tower to shower and throw on a new set of clothes, hardly paying attention to what he was grabbing beyond noting that the colors didn’t clash.

 

Everything had been going fine, he’d made it to the helicarrier without incident, patching into their com system to get the details from Fury and keep him updated on the repairs. But whoever had attacked them and damaged the hull in the first place decided they hadn’t had enough fun yet and sent out a few jets to make things a little worse. Tony and the defense system on the ship had been able to shoot them all down in short order but not before a couple of them got a few good shots off and damaged a few more panels in various locations, all of which were out of reach to anyone but Tony. So he had spent the better part of two hours shifting things back into place and patching up disconnected wires to keep the stealth system operational until the helicarrier could land and get a full repair.

 

By then he was hot and sweaty and had gotten knocked around a bit during the fight and was pretty sure he was bruised and bleeding in a couple of places. Wanting to look presentable he had gone back to the Tower to clean up and it was there that he had finally looked at a clock and realized just what time it really was and raced out the door.

 

Thankfully the place was only a couple blocks away but it was nearing ten o’clock. He jogged up and saw Steve sitting hunched over on the steps, hands folded between his knees. He must have heard Tony coming because he looked up, eyes going wide and practically jumping up from his seat to meet him.

 

Tony slowed to a stop, breathing heavily and feeling guilty, knowing Steve had been sitting on the stoop for the last three hours not having a clue as to what was going on. “I’m so sorry, there was an attack right when I was finishing up and I had to stay to fix up the new damage and it just- yeah. It didn’t go well.”

 

Steve reached out and ran a finger across the cut across Tony’s cheek, worry written all over his face. “You got hurt.”

 

“It’s nothing, I’m fine. Just a little bruised. Listen, I’m sorry, I got here as fast as I could.”

 

Steve was shaking his head violently. “No need to apologize.” He smiled sadly. “We’re superheroes. It happens.”

 

Tony nodded, accepting the forgiveness that underlay Steve’s words. “But I’m still massively late, aren’t I?”

 

Steve nodded, head hanging almost sheepishly. “Yeah, well, not only did I lose our reservation but the kitchen is now closed, so…” He looked up at Tony with resignation.

 

Tony’s shoulders slumped, feeling like it was all his fault, despite knowing there wasn’t much he could have done. “I’m sorry. We can just go back to the Tower if you want. I know this isn’t exactly going well.” He looked up to see Steve smiling, his eyes squinted in amused confusion.

 

“Tony, it’s New York. There are plenty of restaurants still open. And I still want to take you out on a date.” He smiled down at the genius, a touch of shyness coloring the expression.

 

Tony looked up at him, feeling a shy and hopeful smile of his own creep across his face. “Yeah?”

 

“Yeah,” Steve said softly. His expression brightened suddenly, his eyes lighting up with an idea. “Actually, I know the perfect place.”

 

~~~

 

“Steve...”

 

“Hmmm?”

 

“Steve, what are we doing?”

 

“We’re buying wine.”

 

Tony resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Yeah, I can see that. But why?”

 

“To drink.”

 

Tony sighed dramatically. “I assumed. I think you’re missing the point.” The genius gave the soldier a pointed look, which was ignored, and then turned a searching gaze around the store he was standing in.

 

After Steve’s moment of inspiration back at the restaurant, he had grabbed Tony’s hand and drug him down a couple of blocks to another diner and ran inside to place an order to-go. While they waited for their food, he had pulled Tony into a shop across the street where he was currently browsing through the aisles of alcohol, examining each label carefully, apparently looking for something specific. Tony had docilely let himself get dragged around but was getting more and more curious about what exactly Steve had in mind.

 

“What point am I missing?” Steve threw him a sidelong glance but kept his attention on the shelves of wine.

 

“That obviously wine is for drinking but why are we buying it? And getting diner food to-go? What exactly are we doing?”

 

Steve grinned sharply, eyes still skimming shelves. “You know, Tony, you don’t have to know everything. Why don’t you try letting yourself be surprised for once?”

 

“I hate surprises.” Images of hot sand and the pale, still faces of his parents and a large man looming over his empty chest, the sound of gunshots and people weeping and a high-pitched, painful whine flitted through his mind. “The few unpredicted events that have happened in my life didn’t go so well.”

 

He was speaking jokingly, his tone obviously sarcastic, but Steve’s smirk slid away, as if he could sense what Tony was thinking, and turned to face him squarely. “I know,” he said seriously, “but this will be a good one, I promise. Trust me? Enough to let it be a mystery for a little longer?”

 

Tony held the soldier’s gaze steadily. “I always trust you, Steve.” It wasn’t hard for him to admit. He was rather certain he had made it clear back in the Battle of New York when he told the Captain to call the shots; he never would have let him take the lead and control of the situation if he didn’t wholeheartedly believe that Steve was capable. But this was more than mere battle tactics and Tony felt the weight of the implication coloring his words.

 

Steve’s gaze softened for a moment before his eyes turned steely with resolve, seemingly understanding the gravity of Tony’s words, how serious he was about what he had said and how rare a gift it was for Tony to bestow such confidence on someone, and was determined not to let him down. “Then just let me take care of it and wait and see.”

 

He turned away abruptly and went back to scanning the shelves, not giving Tony an opportunity to answer. Tony just withheld another sigh and ignored the wiggling bit of discomfort in his belly that was telling him to dig and claw for answers and not remain in the dark. He could trust Steve, could trust him with anything and there was no reason to be nervous. It was a lot easier to believe it in his head, though, than it was to feel down in his gut, down in the scared and weak and self-doubting part of him that never wanted to trust anyone – because every time he did he ended up getting hurt.

 

He had to keep telling himself that this was not one of those times. Especially considering this was not something nearly as consequential as someone arranging for your death or letting a government spy in your home. Leaving the location and activities of their date a mystery for another twenty minutes was not going to hurt him.

 

A few minutes later Steve cried out in triumph and slid a bottle off the shelf but didn’t bother explaining what he had chosen, just headed to the register to pay and promptly grabbed Tony afterward to go back across the street and retrieve their food from the diner. They walked another couple blocks before Steve swerved suddenly and started to walk into another store. He halted abruptly and turned to Tony, shoving the food and the bottle of wine into his arms with a quick “hold this” and then jogged into the shop, coming out a few minutes later with a paper bag with his purchase inside. They shuffled a few of the items around, distributing them between themselves, and then Steve set off once more, walking with purpose.

 

Tony trailed behind him, watching the soldier as he marched down the sidewalk, took in the breadth of his shoulders, the strength of his legs, the way his pale hair fluttered in the soft breezes that drifted between the buildings. His mind strayed back to when Steve had grabbed his hand outside the restaurant, pulling him off to fulfill whatever idea had popped into his head.

 

Steve’s hands were large, but not thick or meaty. He had long, graceful fingers and flat palms, calloused but smooth. A jolt of surprise had gone through him when Steve’s hand had gripped his own and something suspiciously like nervous butterflies had started to churn in his stomach. Again. He felt like what he imagined most teenagers did with a new crush, awkward and hopeful and anxious and happy, all the emotions tumbling around in your gut and making you hyper aware of each point of contact, of all the little places your skin was touching, each shift of the other person’s body against your own.

 

Tony had gripped back tightly, wondering if Steve was feeling the same way but certain it was just him. Steve had seemed so sure of himself ever since asking Tony out the first time, never hesitating. And with Tony’s luck, he had probably just grabbed ahold without even thinking about it; it probably wasn’t any kind of special gesture, probably wasn’t Steve also wanting to get as close as possible and just _touch_. Tony was the one that was way in over his head with this, was the one far more concerned that this would become something serious, something that lasted. Tony was the one hoping against hope.

 

Ahead of him, Steve was turning off the sidewalk, entering a darkened park and wandering down the path until apparently finding a spot that pleased him and heading off onto the grass near one of the lampposts. He stopped and set down the bags in his hand, reaching into the newest one and pulling out a large, plaid blanket and unfolding it to lay it across the ground. He set down the food on top of it and pulled the remaining bags from Tony’s hands to do the same with them before finally standing up and spreading his arms, a wide smile across his face.

 

“So? What do you think?”

 

Tony looked down at the improvised picnic and then up at Steve’s grinning face and felt his lips quirk.

 

“I think for once I am _pleasantly_ surprised.” He shook his head in amusement. “A picnic under the stars. How cliché.”

 

Steve smiled. “Well, not exactly under the stars. More like under the smog.”

 

Tony chuckled and walked over to sit down on the blanket, pulling forward a few foam containers to find out what Steve had bought. Inside was a variety of options – Chicken Parmesan, Fettuccine Alfredo, garlic bread, Caesar salad, Carbonara, and some spinach and asparagus as well as the bottle of alcohol, a nearly clear white wine set down on the blanket with a pair of glasses. He grabbed a fork and started stabbing at the food, picking out his favorite bits. Steve lay on his side next to him, pouring the wine out into the glasses and passing one to Tony before picking up a fork for himself and beginning to eat.

 

“How’s it taste?”

 

Tony chewed slowly and swallowed, watching Steve intently all the while, before answering. “It’s good. Maybe we should have just gone to that place instead.”

 

Steve shook his head. “No, Joanna’s really does have better food, believe it or not. But…” he stopped and looked around, gazing at the dark trees and secluded park. “I think I like this better.”

 

“Mmm,” Tony hummed. “I suppose if you’re the sappy romantic type…” he trailed off.

 

Steve grinned roguishly. “I am over 90. Can’t expect me to be up-to-date on all these newfangled ways of dating.”

 

“Well that’s true, I mean you didn’t even text me to ask why I was late. And by golly, you sat there for three hours rather than just going home and writing me off like you were supposed to! What’s wrong with you?” Tony pretended to look at Steve accusingly and the soldier adopted an affected look of contriteness.

 

“Oh, my apologies. I’ll be sure to act like an impatient, inconsiderate jerk next time. Will you please forgive me and let me distract you with expensive gifts and sexual favors?” Steve pressed a hand over his heart and fluttered his eyelashes dramatically.

 

Tony tried desperately not to laugh and keep up the game. “Well I suppose, but only if you make sure to ditch me on a date or two and break up with me over Facebook.”

 

Steve’s face turned startled. “Wait, people really do that?”

 

“What, break up over Facebook? Yeah, all the time, and it’s usually not even in a private message. They just change the relationship status or something.”

 

“That’s horrible!”

 

Tony shrugged. “Welcome to the 21st century, where everyone’s a jerk and we prefer the Internet to actual social interaction. Wait, you know what Facebook is?”

 

Steve chuckled. “Yes. That was one of the few things I discovered on my own without your help. Tony, I’m actually rather offended that you didn’t introduce me to such a necessary and sophisticated part of modern American culture! I felt so left out when I found out what I was missing out on.”

 

Tony just raised an eyebrow and Steve’s sincere expression broke, a smirk taking its place.

 

“Okay, you caught me. I think it’s an interesting idea, being able to share pictures and stuff with people in real time, but I’m worried that people never actually enjoy the moment they’re in when it’s happening because of it. They’re too worried about getting pictures and posting them online and so they’re too distracted to be fully present in what they’re doing. They say they take the pictures to help them remember but I wonder… if they’re so worried about it, so certain that it isn't important enough for their mind to hold on to the memories, then are they really doing anything worth remembering?”

 

Tony looked at the other man steadily. “That was a surprisingly deep analysis of social media.”

 

Steve looked mildly embarrassed, but held his gaze. “I think we should devote our attention to what we’re doing in that moment. We’re more likely to remember it that way anyway and if friends and family are honestly concerned about hearing of those events then they should ask, they should _talk_ with the people they care about, rather than just skim through a hundred-character text posts or fifty cheap and badly-taken photos online. It just seems so superficial.”

 

The genius munched on a piece of asparagus, letting the taste of olive oil and salt spread over his tongue, and swallowed slowly. “Some might call that way of thinking old fashioned,” he pointed out.

 

“That's fine with me.” The soldier’s expression was downright tenacious. “I didn’t grow up in a time where loneliness and depression were a national epidemic like they are now. When people cared for someone they took the time to go _see_ them and _talk_ to them. The convenience of social media is nice but I think it gives an excuse not to actually put in the effort to _be_ with people.” His voice was getting hard, his expression turning steely with anger and Tony took the pause in Steve’s rambling to interject.

 

“I don’t disagree.”

 

Steve looked up at him, almost startled. He shook his head back-and-forth briefly before turning to Tony sheepishly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to go off like that. It just bothers me to hear all this talk about how unhappy everyone is and lonely and they never stop to think that it might be because no one is really taking the time to _be_ with other people, to build strong friendships and relationships that last. I know it’s not like that for everyone, I just see a trend, a common thread, and people don’t even realize it.” He sighed deeply. “But, enough of that, it’s not something I can fix anyway so there’s not use dwelling on it. Tell me about what you’ve been working on.” He looked up at Tony curiously.

 

The inventor had to mentally shake himself and readjust his mind to the swift change in topic, setting aside thoughts of Steve’s frustrations with the future and thinking back over his last few days in the workshop since the soldier had last asked earlier in the week. As they finished eating, Tony rambled on swiftly, gesturing wildly and with increasing excitement as he explained the advances he was making in his suits and all his ideas for new projects, most of them for the Avengers, but there were a few new innovations for Stark Industries and the general public. He spent awhile talking enthusiastically about the success of the arc reactor that was powering the Tower and the positive reaction from both the scientific community and the press. Even Steve had long since finished eating before he finally trailed off and went silent when he noticed the soldier looking up at him with a fond expression.

 

“…What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

 

“I love listening to you talk about your inventing. It’s the only time I ever see you so genuinely happy.”

 

“Uh… I… Oh.”

 

“Yeah.” He gave Tony a soft smile.

 

Tony glanced away uncomfortably, not knowing how to respond to the sincere affection in Steve’s eyes, trying to remind himself that it wouldn’t last. To distract himself, he looked around at the empty containers and peeked a glance at his watch. “Well, it’s getting kind of late. What do you think, should we head back?” he asked, reaching out for his glass to down the last of his wine.

 

“I think you should probably let me kiss you right about now.”

 

Tony nearly dropped the glass, but managed to keep it gripped in his fingers. He did stutter in bringing it up to his lips, though, and looked away, unable to maintain his gaze on Steve, who was looking up at him with a light smile and hopeful eyes.

 

His mind raced, trying to decide how to respond. He wanted to, wanted _desperately_ to say yes, but the very thought set his chest to aching. He knew it was something he couldn’t have, knew that if he said yes he was just going to make it that much harder on himself in the future when Steve decided he had had enough of Tony and his antics. It always happened. Always. And he wasn’t sure he could bear the pain of having Steve and losing him.

 

He could handle a few dates without letting his hopes get up too high; they weren’t much different than what they had been doing up until now anyway. But a kiss? A kiss was letting Steve in, letting him get close, letting him touch. A kiss would make this so very real and just make Tony long for even more. And he couldn’t keep this, couldn’t believe that Steve would ever want him for longer than a little while. So even though his heart was screaming at him to say yes, to lean forward and press his lips to Steve’s, he just finished sipping at the last of his wine, eyes averted.

 

He dared a glance at Steve and saw the soldier’s expression falling.

 

“Oh. That was sudden, I’m sorry. You don’t have to, it’s okay.”

 

Despite an initial rush of relief, Tony suddenly felt extremely disappointed and tried to quell the part of him that had hoped Steve would just kiss him anyway, that he hadn’t meant the question as literally seeking permission but more as a warning to what he was already planning on doing.

 

Steve sat up and began gathering up the empty containers and stowing them in the shopping bags. “It is getting rather late, though. We should probably get going before the police come in and kick us out for loitering.” His tone had turned cheerful again, but there was a quietness to it where normally Steve would have been grinning with humor.

 

Tony hated upsetting the man, hated seeing him looking so disappointed, but he was certain the super soldier would get over it quickly; Steve would realize soon how much Tony really wasn’t worth it and would move on, leaving Tony to pine on alone.

 

The two folded up the blanket and packed the bags, stopping at a trashcan to throw out the empty food containers. They walked back to the Tower in silence, Tony spending the whole trip arguing with himself about whether he had made the right choice. He _wanted_ , he really did. Wanted Steve so much it made his heart sting like the shrapnel had finally cut their way through, arc reactor be damned. He wanted to sit up late watching movies and cuddling; wanted to make out on the couch, against the countertop, down in the lab when he was supposed to be working, pressed to the hallway walls, lounging on their beds; wanted to go on dates and hold hands under the table or in the dark of a movie theater; wanted to have someone to come home to after horrible SI meetings who would just wrap him up close and hold him. He wanted everything and more.

 

But the fear of chasing Steve away, of having all _that_ , all those wonderful things and knowing how amazing it was to have someone like Steve care about him and then having it all ripped away, would break him. It made his stomach churn and his palms sweat just thinking about it. Because he already knew how magnificent it would be, had gotten a taste of it over the last few weeks and knew that it was more than he could have ever dreamed of, let alone thought he could have. And that was the whole point – he couldn’t have it because it was nothing more than a farfetched, unrealistic dream. There was no way Steve would ever want a stubborn, irresponsible, immature, distractible, forgetful, arrogant, obnoxious, impossible man like Tony. It just wasn’t possible.

 

So they walked back to the Tower and Tony stole glances at the perfect man walking beside him, stared at his artist’s hands and sleek, powerful muscles and longed to slip his fingers into that silky soft, golden hair and slide his lips over Steve’s and just _take_. He wanted to touch him everywhere, pull him close and grip him so tight even the serum’s strength wouldn’t be able to take him away from Tony’s grasp. He looked up at those clear, baby blue eyes and the strong jaw and slim, pink lips and _ached_ with want.

 

They rode up the elevator and exited in the penthouse, Steve gesturing for Tony to wait a moment while he laid the blanket on the sofa and placed the wine on the drink bar, folding up the paper bags to toss in the trashcan as they passed the kitchen. Steve walked with Tony all the way down the hall and to his door, finally speaking softly when Tony’s hand was about to reach for the doorknob.

 

“I had a good time tonight. Thank you.” He smiled down at Tony softly, all traces of his earlier sadness gone.

 

Tony nodded. “Me too. Thanks for waiting so long. And for being willing to improvise.” He tried to throw on a roguish grin, but he was rather certain it fell flat.

 

Steve still smiled gently and nodded. The two looked at each other steadily for a long moment, gazes locked and tension building between them. Tony’s heart started to beat faster in nervous anticipation as Steve reached a hand out slowly and ran a single finger gently down Tony’s cheek, causing the genius’s breath to hitch in his chest.

 

Steve’s eyes were tender, his expression affectionate and he whispered softly. “Goodnight, Tony.”

 

Tony barely managed to breathe out a “Night, Steve,” before the soldier turned swiftly and headed back down the hall to his own room. He watched the man walking silently and resolutely, mind racing through all the moments they had spent together over the last few weeks and how important this man had become to him, how terribly he longed for more, and something in him snapped. He lurched forward, practically running down the hall, calling out loudly, voice desperate with longing and need. “Steve!”

 

Steve turned to face him just outside his door, but Tony hardly slowed at all, stretching out a hand to pull the soldier down and kissed him.

 

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeeep!! Finally, the first kiss!  
> I do promise you that this will not be all that is said about the kiss, but I wanted kind of a dramatic flair to end the chapter as part of the climax thing. Whatever. Anyway, there isn't a whole lot left to Missy Li's video. Mostly, just the proposal and its public announcement and the brief view of the wedding. I do want to take some time to put in some relationship development between this and the proposal, but not too much. I want the proposal and Steve's announcement on television to be in the same chapter and I think I'll only do the wedding as a brief epilogue of sorts - weddings in books always seem weird to me because they never really seem to capture the emotion involved, no matter how well written. So I won't try to do too much with that. 
> 
> So anyway, I think you can count on two more full chapters and an epilogue.
> 
>  
> 
> ** I may have thrown in my own personal vendetta against social media. Sorry to those of you who are diehard fans. You'd think being a fan fiction addict I wouldn't feel so strongly about such things, but... Well I'm just a mess of contradictions. I fully acknowledge that some people are addicted to Facebook and Twitter and stuff and still have wonderful, lifelong, meaningful friendships and that there are some people who's best friends are their internet friends. In general, though, I think the increased technology and reliance on social media makes people pay less attention to what they're doing in the moment. The need to pull out your cell during dinner or look at whatever you've gone to see through the camera lens are good examples. Also, Steve being from a time when none of that existed would probably think it just plain strange, if nothing else. And though Tony obviously loves his technology, being from on older generation, I think he probably would look on some of the trends of young people with technology as rather stupid. I may be projecting, but it makes sense to me, anyway. But I'm just a bitter, old soul in a young person's body, so what do I know? :) 
> 
>  
> 
> ** Also, I realized while writing the next chapter that I never explained what the deal is with Pepper, especially since I've made it clear by now that I did keep her relationship with Tony canon (some authors pretend it wasn't there at all, personally I think it's kind of hard to do). I finished all of the next chapter without ever offering any explanation, either, so I figure I'll just put it here: They did get together after Iron Man 2. They were together throughout the whole Avenger's movie as well. Personally, I think the Battle would (and SHOULD) have been Pepper's last straw and she gently let him go right after, though obviously stayed on as CEO, kind of personal assistant, and definitely a friend. 
> 
> On another note, does anyone else absolutely hate movie-verse Tony with Pepper? Like, I wasn't thrilled with her to begin with, but after that scene in Iron Man 3 where she walks away in a huff when Tony wakes up from a nightmare, acting like it's his fault for having bad dreams and being frightened? The one where he calls the suit in his sleep cause he's freakin out and it frightens her and rather than sitting and calming down and helping HIM calm down she stalks off all pissy like he'd done something so horrible? No. Just no. That is not how you treat your lover, your boyfriend, your FRIEND when they're struggling with something like that. Gahhh, it pissed me off so bad. I still get angry every time I see that scene. Until then I had been okay with Pepper and Tony, but now I am firmly of the opinion that she is no good for him. Like, not at all. Okay. Rant over.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter didn't turn out at all like I thought it would, but I still like it. Hope you do too!

“JARVIS, run a simulation.”

 

_Already running, Sir._

 

“How’re the armor plates coming along?”

 

_80% complete. Estimated time remaining is twenty-two minutes, forty-six seconds. And might I remind you, Sir, that Director Fury has left you seventeen voice mails and twelve emails reminding you to send him the schematics for the improvements to the hellicarrier’s reflector panels?_

 

Tony ran a hand down his face and sighed. “Right, yeah. Run a simulation on those as well, just to double check impact resistance.”

 

 _Right away, Sir_.

 

His fingers flew across the various holoscreens floating around his workshop, eyes skimming quickly through schematics and computer code, hands sliding unwanted images out of the way and dissecting the various projects. It was like the most complex and beautiful dance and he did it with ease, never making a mistake, never losing focus. He was in his element, completely at home and letting contentment wash over him as he immersed himself in the work.

 

_Simulation complete. Adjustment to electrical signal and voltage output increases damage to the victim while staying well within parameters for the user’s safety._

 

“Awesome. Begin fabrication on Widow’s Bite, Model 3-2-VXT/7.”

 

_Fabrication begun. Shall I begin running simulations on the HE-1-1-5?_

 

“No, I think Barton would rather test it out himself. Queue for manufacturing.”

 

_Will Agent Barton be coming to the Tower soon?_

 

“Who knows, but if he wants new toys he’ll have to come get them himself. No way am I walking into SHIELD headquarters unless absolutely necessary.” Tony shook his head. “I swear, Fury’s bad eye is specifically calibrated to spotting me as soon as I’m within a mile of the man.”

 

“Well, you don’t exactly make it easy for people to miss your presence,” Steve remarked. The soldier was sitting sideways on the couch in the corner or the workshop, sketchbook in hand and dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, his bare feet tucked up onto the cushions. He glanced up at Tony with a grin, but kept his focus on whatever he was drawing.

 

Tony grinned back. “Touché. So when are you gonna let me take a look at your shield?”

 

“You already know the answer to that, Tony,” he mumbled.

 

“Aw, come on!” the genius wheedled. “One peek. I just want, like… two hours!”

 

“No. You’ll want to make adjustments and I already like it exactly the way it is. I’m already letting you do whatever you like with the suit,” Steve pointed out.

 

“No, you’re letting me make any _suggestions_ I want and then shooting most of them down.” Tony let his voice drip with disappointment and threw on a pout for good measure.

 

Steve didn’t even look up, just smiled from where he was sitting, gaze firmly fixed on his sketch. “Yup.”

 

Tony shook his head, resigned. They’d already had the same discussion almost a dozen times and it never ended differently. Steve was perfectly okay with Tony coming up with outrageous ideas for adjustments and improvements to the suit, even had a few crazy ideas of his own, but was rather picky when it came down to actually implementing them. He was immensely practical and even a little old fashioned still. He was okay with increased protection, but only if it didn’t hinder his movements; liked extra features here and there, but preferred to let Iron Man and Widow have control of the more advanced technology; was okay with alterations in the design, but only so long as it was still very clearly displaying the red, white, and blue. It was frustrating sometimes, but Tony supposed that tight hold to his ideals and preferences (and values and morals) was one of the things he liked best about the soldier.

 

Tony’s thoughts started to wander as he turned back to the schematics, pulling up a stream of code that needed editing, letting himself fall into the relatively mindless task while the majority of his focus drifted to thoughts of Steve.

 

It had been a few weeks since their first date and it had been wonderful. They tried to go out at least once a week for dinner or a movie or a walk - something more typically like a date - but mostly they just continued on as they always had – takeout and a movie in the evening, staying up late talking when one of them couldn’t sleep. The only differences now was that cuddling and kissing were included at both of those times and that Steve had begun spending more and more time with Tony down in his lab. It was getting to the point where the only time the two of them were ever apart was when Tony had SI business and when they were sleeping. Tony had never thought he could spend so much time with one single person and not get sick of them.

 

He was waiting for the day when Steve would realize he was getting sick of Tony but it hadn’t happened yet and the inventor was starting to believe that maybe it never would. Maybe Steve really did want him and wasn’t going to leave. He tried to tell himself it was a foolish to hope but he just couldn’t get the little spark within his chest to die; it just kept growing with every soft smile Steve sent his way, with every gentle kiss goodnight, every laugh the other man breathed out because of something Tony had said. Even moments where Tony was certain Steve was going to get irritated, like when he’d been sitting in the lab for days without eating or sleeping, Steve never got angry. Just shook his head and grinned in exasperated amusement and somehow persuaded him to come up to the kitchen and eat.

 

It was the stuff of miracles, really, that Steve never even tried to use his strength to force Tony to leave. He usually didn’t even need to bribe or use his Cap voice; Tony just couldn’t say no to the man and so he never resisted for long when the soldier came in to remind him that humans needed food and sleep regularly. And he couldn’t even be mad with him for it because Steve would bring him upstairs to his favorite foods and then lay him on the couch with the genius’s head in his lap, running his long fingers through dark hair and murmuring softly to him until he fell asleep. Tony would wake up hours later, his cheek pressed to the soldier’s thigh and a strong arm slung over his shoulders, warm and rested and content. He never had nightmares when he slept like that and was always able to function better than normal after a few hours with Steve’s presence hovering over him and protecting him while he slept.

 

Steve was safety and comfort and strength personified and Tony never felt fear in his presence. Somehow his brain knew that there was nothing that could hurt him if Steve was around and it calmed him enough that even the subconscious part of his mind wouldn’t awaken and freak out with twisted dreams and terrible memories. Even when he was conforming to a regular schedule and slept alone in his room day-after-day, just knowing Steve was down the hall, his super-hearing too powerful to miss even the faintest of sounds, was enough to make the genius feel at ease, though not enough to stop the occasional nightmare. Even so, Tony was sleeping better than he had in years – even Pepper had noticed that he didn’t seem as manic and wasn’t drinking as much coffee as normal to stay awake and functioning.

 

He looked over at the super solider where he reclined on the couch, brow furrowed and his tongue stuck between his teeth, and smiled fondly. Steve was becoming his reason to get up in the morning, his reason to smile. The man had a dry wit and an arsenal of sarcasm that could make even Fury crack a grin in humor and Tony found himself laughing more than he probably ever had in his life. But there was more to it than that.

 

Steve just made him happy, genuinely happy. And he couldn’t really explain why or how because the man was stubborn and frustratingly honest and unapologetically wholesome and far too concerned about bodily health than was compatible with Tony’s lifestyle and the man drove him crazy sometimes. But in the very next moment he would smile or make a joke or stare in wonder at Tony’s new creations or treat the bots like people (albeit children) and not like erratic inventions gone wrong and then the inventor would just melt, he could literally feel himself go soft and gooey on the inside and was certain that if he ever poked himself in the torso during those moments he would squish like a warm marshmallow. And he just wouldn’t be able to stay irritated with the man and would remember all over again why he had agreed to date him in the first place.

 

Because they were dating; Tony was _in a relationship_. With Steve Rogers of all people and he wanted it known that there had been no coercion, no bribing, no hallucinations or drugs or delusions involved. Steve Rogers _wanted_ him, for whatever bizarre and as-of-yet unknown reason and though he was pretty sure it wouldn’t last long Tony was selfish enough do everything in his power to keep him. He went _shopping_ for the man, if that didn’t spell desperate and besotted he was pretty sure there was no way he could convince anyone that he was serious about this relationship, was serious enough to want this to be permanent.

 

So he looked over at Steve and smiled, honestly happy but with sadness lurking underneath because he knew he couldn’t have this forever. For the first time in his life he had found someone he wanted to be committed to, wanted to keep, had finally realized that there could be someone out there like that for him, and they were too good for him. Steve would be settling for less than he deserved and Tony wouldn’t even be able to blame him for it when the soldier realized it and moved on without him.

 

But right now, Steve was here and always looked genuinely happy to be around Tony and he was going to take advantage of that, was going to selfishly and shamelessly hoard all the time he could get with Steve while he still could. He gave a few last instructions to JARVIS and closed the projects, letting the holoscreens flicker off as he rose from his seat and marched over to the couch to pluck the sketchbook from Steve’s hands to set on the coffee table and climb onto his lap, wrapping his arms around the man tightly and burrowing his face in the soldiers chest.

 

Steve was stiff with surprise for a moment before winding his own limbs around the genius and pushing his nose down into Tony’s dark hair, inhaling deeply. Tony felt himself smile a little – Steve’s senses were enhanced because of the serum which made him extra sensitive to scents and tastes and such but he never seemed to have a problem with how Tony smelled, even after a couple of days in the workshop without showering. He sighed contentedly and pressed himself closer, feeling Steve’s fingers grip his back tightly.

 

They sat quietly like that for awhile, just holding on and listening to each other’s heartbeats, until Tony felt the nerves from all his negative thoughts fading away, all the tension seeping from his limbs and his mind slowing down and going calm in a way that only ever happened when he was sitting like this with Steve, silent and still.

 

“Do you remember our first date?” Steve asked quietly, a cheek resting on Tony’s head. “You were so quiet that night, like you are now, just following me docilely wherever I wanted to go without commenting or chattering. Even when we sat down to eat you didn’t talk much.”

 

“Is that why you asked me about my inventions?”

 

He felt Steve’s lips stretch into a smile. “Yeah. You’re not Tony when you’re quiet, I thought. But I guess it just wasn’t the right kind of quiet. You were nervous then, didn’t really know what to say. But this, holding you like this is nice. This isn’t quiet because you don’t know what to say, this is you not needing to say anything at all. You’re always so restless but right now you seem content. Peaceful. I like it. Like _you._ ” He nuzzled into Tony’s hair again, nosing at his temple.

 

Tony smiled to himself but said nothing.

 

“You surprised me, too.”

 

“How’s that?” Tony queried, an eyebrow quirking in curiosity.

 

Steve lifted his face up and rested his chin on Tony’s head. “When you kissed me,” he said softly.

 

Tony fell silent as his mind drifted back to that night. He had run after Steve before the soldier could enter his room, tugging his head down to press their lips together, finally having decided that he didn’t care if Steve was going to change his mind, didn’t care if this ended in heartbreak; he wanted Steve and would take him for as long as he could have him.

 

Steve had been shocked into stillness for a moment before curling over and wrapping his arms around Tony, tugging him in close and holding on tightly, desperately, and ravaging his mouth in a heated and frantic kiss. They had stayed twined around each other, hands gripping and pulling, for whole minutes, neither wanting to let go, but eventually it had slowed until they were just pressing their lips together repeatedly, gently. Steve had pulled back and rested his forehead against Tony’s, eyes closed, and inhaled deeply.

 

“What made you change your mind?” he had asked.

 

In a rare moment of honesty Tony had shrugged and blurted out more than he meant to: “You’ll probably change your mind about this pretty soon so I figured I should take advantage while I still can,” he had said and then promptly clamped his jaw shut and tried to pull away.

 

Steve had just pulled him in even tighter and shook his head, chuckling fondly. “I figured you were thinking something self-deprecating like that. I’ll convince you, one way or another, that I want this. Want _you_.”

 

Tony knew better than to argue with the super soldier and had stayed silent, the two of them pressed together in the hallway for a few more minutes before Steve had extracted himself and quietly said they needed to get to sleep. They had parted with soft “goodnights” and entered their rooms, after which Tony had stripped and climbed into bed where he had proceeded to stare at the ceiling with a hand pressed to his mouth, wishing he could save the sensation of Steve’s lips on his own. He had lain awake for a long time, finally drifting out of consciousness when it was more morning than night and slept peacefully for a couple of hours.

 

He had woken and gone out to the kitchen nervously the next morning, wondering how things would be different and half expecting Steve to have changed his mind already after having slept on it. Steve had been sitting in his corner of the couch, book in hand and a glass of water on the table in front of him, hair still slightly damp from his shower. Tony had puttered around getting toast and coffee and then stood awkwardly by the island trying to decide whether he should just sit at the island or join Steve in the living room.

 

Seemingly reading his mind, Steve had turned to face him over the back of the couch and grinned spectacularly, beckoning him over with a tilt of his head. Tony had walked over obediently and sat next to him, placing his mug and plate on the coffee table and sitting upright at the edge of the cushion, turning over his shoulder to give Steve a questioning look. The man had smiled and shook his head in exasperation and leaned forward to take the genius’s chin in hand and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, then another to his forehead, muttering a soft “good morning,” before wrapping an arm around his waist, pulling him close to his side, and then turning his attention back to his book. The day had gone on like normal after that, aside from the addition of kissing and cuddling and affectionate smiles.

 

Tony was brought back to the present by Steve nudging at his head with his nose, trying to tilt his head back and away from his chest, so he leaned away to look up at the soldier who was looking at him curiously.

 

“Where did you go?” Steve asked.

 

“Just thinking.” Tony stretched up to press a kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth, humming in pleasure when Steve prolonged it with lazy drags of his lips over Tony’s.

 

Steve curled a hand around his jaw, dancing his fingertips around Tony’s neck and drifting up into his hair to cradle the back of his head, still kissing him tenderly. It was a new kind of kissing to the billionaire, whose one-night stands had usually been fiery and quick, his time with Pepper affectionate and gentle at times, but mostly passionate and heated, often fueled by their arguments and disagreements. Steve was no less passionate, but his kisses had a sweetness to them, warmth and softness that wasn’t just him withholding his strength. He treated Tony like he was precious and valuable, a treasure to handle with scrupulous attention and protectiveness.

 

Tony had never felt like anyone he had been with had ever wanted to take _care_ of him. Take _advantage_ of, that had been a regular occurrence, and though Pepper had cared for him, it had always seemed more like she had wanted him to take care of himself so that she wouldn't have to worry about it. He didn’t blame her, she had enough to worry about as it was, so he had never expected or even wanted her to take care of him - it was just another example of why they really weren’t meant to be together as a couple.

 

But with Steve, he felt like he was being taken care of, that Steve was looking out for him, meeting his needs, protecting him, and watching over him. Sometimes it was in the simplest of ways, like getting between Tony and the street when they were out on a walk or taking a sip of his coffee so he could warn him if it was too hot. It was simple little gestures that showed he was concerned about Tony’s safety and wellbeing.

 

Normally he would have thought it condescending or overprotective, but he knew that Steve knew he could take care of himself. Steve had fought with him in a battle to save the world and trusted him with that responsibility; Steve was aware of the fact that Tony had been mostly on his own for decades and had managed to maintain his health pretty well on his own, even discounting Pepper’s help. Tony wasn’t a child that needed constant supervision and Steve knew that, but it didn’t stop him from taking care of the inventor simply because he liked to do so. He liked to see Tony well cared for and healthy, liked to be the one to ensure he was getting the rest and sustenance he needed, liked to be protective and watchful; it was in his nature.

 

At least, that’s what Tony was guessing. Some of it Steve had said himself, usually when talking about doing similar things with the Commandos, some of it Tony had simply figured out by observing, some of it he was assuming, so he might not have it completely right but he was certain he was pretty close. He was starting to understand how Steve’s mind worked and one of his primary concerns was always about the well being of those on his team, Tony being at the top of the list based on the way he devoted all of his attention to the genius whenever they were in the same room and the way he was currently so gently running a hand up and down his back.

 

Tony hummed contentedly and squeezed the bicep his hand was gripping, pulling away from the kiss to just look at Steve, gazing happily into those baby blues.

 

Steve smiled at him. “I’m so glad you came after me that night.”

 

“Me too.”

 

Steve’s arms tightened around him and Tony reinserted himself against Steve’s chest, curling into the heat and the comfort that was Steve’s arms and let himself calm.

 

~~~

 

They got a call from Fury for a brief mission a few days later, some second-rate super villain trying to blow up New York for no discernable reason beyond wanting to cause some mayhem. It wasn’t exactly a difficult job but they got caught off guard when the guy’s sidekick showed up and started tossing bombs of sickly yellow-colored smoke straight at the Captain. In a panic, not knowing what the devices would do to a human body, Tony had dove down and shoved Steve out of the way, taking the full brunt of the explosions. The suit had been enveloped in the gas, which had turned out to be acidic and powerful enough to start corroding at even Tony’s advanced suit. The filters had been enough to keep the foul stuff from getting at Tony’s flesh or into his lungs, but by the time both villains were subdued, the metal on the suit was practically melting off and half of its functions were dead. Tony had needed to use the manual releases to get the armor off while yelling at Steve not to touch any of it.

 

Steve had been frantic, dashing for Tony as soon as the villain was in chains and running his hands all over the genius’s body once the suit was removed, checking for injury. As soon as it was clear that he had gotten off with little more than a few scratches from ragged parts of the suit coming off, Steve had hauled Tony over to the nearest road and hailed a taxi to take them back to the Tower. He sat silently for the whole ride, his body practically vibrating in anger, Tony assumed.

 

The moment the elevator doors closed behind them upon arriving at the penthouse, Steve rounded on him, nostrils flaring and eyes flashing.

 

“That stuff could have killed you! If you hadn’t gotten out of the suit in time-“ He cut off abruptly and switched tracks. “What were you thinking?”

 

“I was thinking that whatever was in those things was probably meant to do bodily harm and that the suit was more likely to withstand it than your skin,” Tony said, tone slightly sarcastic but his face serious.

 

“I had the shield,” Steve grit out with forced calm through clenched teeth.

 

“And what good would it have done in all that gas?”

 

“You didn’t know it was gas, it could have been an ordinary grenade.”

 

“No, you’re right, I didn’t know. That’s not the point. You were more likely to get hurt by whatever it was than me. I had a split second to make a decision - you most likely definitely getting hurt or me only maybe getting hurt. I made a choice and I chose to take the risk.” It seemed perfectly reasonable, the most logical option all things considered. Steve should know that, he was a soldier, a brilliant tactician. He had to know that this had been the most likely option to yield a positive outcome. “Why are you so mad at me?”

 

Steve’s eyes widened momentarily in shock before his head ducked down. “Mad at you?” he muttered softly and then suddenly started pacing, hands gesturing jerkily and gaze darting around the room. “God, Tony, I’m not _mad_ at you. I just- One moment I’m seeing a bomb land at my feet and the next I’m watching it explode underneath _your_ feet and seeing the metal of the suit literally start to _melt_ and run off of you like water and all I could think was _‘no, I can’t lose him too!’_ and I couldn’t even stop to check on you. I’m Captain America and he doesn’t get to stop chasing after the super villain just because the man he loves might be dyi-“ Steve’s voice choked off and he fell silent, body stilling where he stood staring at the floor.

 

Tony was frozen where he stood, face slack and body stiff in surprise, his mind repeating over and over – “ _loves, loves, loves, man he **loves** ”_. “What?” he said weakly.

 

Steve turned to look at him, his expression revealing nothing. He walked over to stand in front of Tony and leaned down to grasp his hands tightly in his own. He looked down with a soft smile. “That wasn’t exactly how I wanted to tell you.”

 

Tony gazed up at him mutely, disbelief probably written all over his face. “You-“

 

One of Steve’s hands came up to cup Tony’s jaw, a thumb running across his cheek gently. “Yeah. I do. I love you, Tony.”

 

“But- I… You…” He wasn’t really sure what he was trying to say, but Steve seemed to understand anyway.

 

“Don’t tell me you don’t believe me? Are you calling me a liar?” He didn’t look upset – if anything his expression was fond, his eyes gazing down at Tony sweetly, roving over his face and searching for Tony’s answer.

 

“I- No.” Steve would never lie. But could he really mean that – really truly mean it, and not just in this moment, but forever? His eyes searched Steve’s face, crawling into the depths of those baby blues for the truth.

 

He remembered just moments ago when Steve had been pacing restlessly and realized that Steve hadn’t been mad but terribly, horribly _worried_ , scared to death that Tony had gotten hurt. He thought back over the last couple of months together, all the late nights curled up on the couch comforting each other and whispering dark secrets and the terrors of their bad dreams. Remembered every affectionate, exasperated, joyful smile that Steve had ever thrown his way and the countless times he had sat in the workshop just _sitting_ , just being in Tony’s presence and listening to him ramble endlessly about his inventions. Considered how every single day Steve showed up to bring him food, to make sure he was showering and eating and getting sleep and never once complained about the task or whined at Tony to take care of himself better or to grow up – just quietly and attentively made sure he got cleaned up and fed and laid down to rest. He looked up at Steve’s face and saw all of the ways this man had taken care of him in the weeks since moving into the Tower, all the ways he had cared for him, and saw nothing but pure, unadulterated love.

 

Tony finally let his searching eyes still, just looking back at Steve where he was gazing down at Tony with concern, and finally let the last of his worries fade away. This man, this magnificent man, loved him, and he wondered how he could have ever doubted it when it seemed so glaringly obvious now. Rather than try to explain the rollercoaster of thoughts that had been rolling through his head, he just said the one thing that he thought would sum it all up, that would tell Steve what he needed to know. “I love you.”

 

Steve’s smile was like the sun breaking through the clouds of a storm and setting everything to sparkling like diamonds. Tony was certain he had never seen anything more beautiful.

 

~~~ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notice how I left it super vague as to whether or not they've had sex yet? I'm going to pretend that it's because it's a secret I'm saving and not because I just haven't decided on whether or not they've done it already or are taking it REALLY slow. 
> 
>  
> 
> So I really didn't intend to make almost the entire chapter just Tony and Steve hanging out in the workshop while Tony thought and thought and thought. I had thought this would be just a bunch of little moments of the two of them hanging out and doing couply things to show how their relationship was growing, but I think I like it better this way. It gives an investigative (though perhaps overdone) insight into Tony's thoughts and feelings, letting you see how he's progressed and grown in recent weeks. And I think the next chapter will actually have some cute little moments, too, hopefully, to make up for the lack in this one. Although, I personally think this one has some sweet moments too. Like that ridiculous cuddle session in the workshop where Steve's all sappy and affectionate and gross. Gosh, I would love to have that man for myself! 
> 
> So yeah, this chapter was basically more filler and the next one is mostly back to Missy Li's video. The idea is to have everything that is left of the video but the wedding in the next chapter, but part of me thinks that with the ideas in my head it might stretch out longer. I make no promises, though, so if you're REALLY hoping for more, pray to the muses for me. Either way, the journey is almost over!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm done early again, so I'm just gonna post and let you all enjoy it. Assumed posting for the next chapter will be a week from today (obviously), but I will post as soon as the chapter is done (obviously) which I hope will be within a few days, but I make no promises :) 
> 
>  
> 
> Okay, just an FYI, I really didn't mean to throw in a whole other bucket of angst and Tony feels and insecurities and whatnot. I really didn't. It was supposed to be happy and sappy and couple-y and gross from here on out but it just kind of happened. When I write, I just turn the faucet on, I can't really control what comes out.

“No, Tony, I’m sorry, but there really isn’t any other option.” Pepper really did seem apologetic. It didn’t make Tony feel any better, though.

 

He sighed deeply, running a hand over his face and staring with resignation at the floor. “How long?”

 

Her breath gushed out in relief. “A couple of weeks. The R&D team out there is stuck and they need your genius brain to get them past whatever engineering wall they’ve run up against. It’s not like super villains only attack New York – they could come to LA too.”

 

Tony was shaking his head before Pep could even finish the sentence. “Super villains are not what I’m worried about. What about Steve?” He didn’t really like saying it so bluntly; the two of them still hadn’t really let anyone in on their relationship. He was pretty sure Pepper had probably already figured it out, but he hadn’t actually told her; it felt weird talking about it.

 

She leveled him with one of her flat stares. “He’s a grown man, you know. He can handle himself for a couple of weeks.”

 

“I know that.” He sounded petulant, didn’t he? “Doesn’t mean he should have to be alone for so long, though,” he finished off quietly.

 

“So bring him with,” Pepper said, like it was the most obvious suggestion in the world.

 

“What?”

 

She was smirking now. “SI needs you in LA but the Avengers don’t need you in New York all the time and you can always fly back if you need to. You don’t want to leave Steve here all by himself, so bring him with. You two can do your dating-but-still-pretending-to-just-be-friends thing anywhere.”

 

Well, that answered that question. “So…”

 

Pepper was looking at him with impatience, practically shooing him out of the room with hand gestures and everything. “So, go ask him. You need to be there by morning so we need to be out of here in the next couple of hours if you want to get any sleep tonight.”

 

“Right. Okay.” Tony turned to go, trying to get his mind caught up with the last few minutes, feeling like it had all rushed by before he could even really react to it.

 

~~~

 

It was surprisingly easy to get Steve to agree to come with, Tony thought. He had given a quick rundown of the situation in California, letting the Captain know he was going to have to move back to his house out in Malibu for a few weeks and would Steve maybe want to come with possibly, if it wasn’t too much to ask and it wasn’t going to inconvenience him in anyway, he obviously had no reason to feel obligated, I mean Tony would completely understand if Steve didn’t want to uproot his life and travel across the country and it was totally okay?

 

Steve had slapped a hand across the genius’s mouth to cut off the rambling, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Of course I’ll go with you,” he had said firmly and Tony had felt all the tension drain out of his tight muscles like water.

 

The two were lounging around in the jet now, near the end of the flight, just cuddled up next to each other on the couch and enjoying the relative peace and quiet.

 

“Tony,” Steve murmured softly after awhile.

 

“Hmmm?” Tony didn’t even bother moving from where he was snuggled up under Steve’s arm, his cheek resting over the soldier’s steadily beating heart.

 

“You’re not still doubting me, are you?”

 

That made him sit up. He pulled away and turned his face toward Steve. “What?”

 

Steve was looking at him carefully, brow furrowed in concern, maybe a little confusion. “You seemed really nervous when you asked if I would come with you, like you expected me to say ‘no.’ Did you really think I would let you come all the way out here for more than a couple of days without me?”

 

Tony felt himself deflate a little. He had been doing so well the last couple of weeks, since the mishap with the corrosive gas and their subsequent confessions, had finally begun to really tear down his walls and let Steve in, begun to really believe the soldier wanted him and was going to stick around. But every now and then some little, seemingly insignificant, thing would pop up, something that seemed inconsequential but had always been points of contention in the past with other people, that made him wonder if this was the last straw. Steve was the most patient and easygoing person he had ever met off the battlefield, usually okay with going with the flow. He wasn’t terribly social, didn’t like going out much, especially if it was more than just the two of them, but though he liked his routines he wasn’t usually too upset about them being messed with. At least not when it came to Tony.

 

So he had been doing well, really believing that Steve was here just for him, that he wasn’t put off by his eccentricities and whatever, and was planning on staying around. But Pepper had been the same way and she rarely went with him for short trips like this, not even when they were together. Being CEO it kind of made sense, but there was business to take care of at the main offices for SI in both states but she never went back and forth because of Tony. She had always made her own schedule and it usually conflicted with when Tony needed to be somewhere. Sometimes they would cross paths two or three times, not seeing each other in person for more than a month, before their schedules coincided and got them back in the same city again. Steve didn’t have to worry about things like Shareholder meetings or company responsibilities, but that didn’t mean he was going to let Tony rule his schedule.

 

He looked up at Steve sadly, knowing that he had doubted Steve’s commitment to him, his unfailing loyalty and genuine desire to be around Tony, and felt his face falling.

 

Steve’s eyes widened suddenly and he brought his hands up to cup Tony’s face. “Stop that,” he said sternly, brow furrowing in a frown this time. “Stop that right now. Stop feeling guilty. I’m not angry, I’m not upset, I’m not blaming you or anything so just stop that train of thought. All it means is I haven’t done my job well enough yet.”

 

Tony was shaking his head. “No, no Steve you’re perfect. You’re wonderful, it’s all me. I’m just messed up and I have trust issues a mile high and I have done nothing to deserve you and all your patience. And you are _very_ convincing, I just-“ he paused, not really knowing what to say. “I have issues.”

 

“I know that,” Steve said, not unkindly.

 

Tony huffed a laugh. “Yeah, I know. I just still can’t quite figure out why you’re still here anyway.”

 

“Because I love you.” He said it so bluntly, so simply, like there was no other reason in the world that mattered. Said it with so much conviction, so much plain and honest belief like there was no more doubt in that statement than there was in that the sky was blue and water was wet and the sun rose in the East.

 

Tony closed his eyes, unable to look at all that naked feeling written all over Steve’s face, turning his own aside and trying to quell the rolling emotions in him at those words, one’s he’d heard over and over again the last few weeks and yet they never ceased to floor him.

 

“Tony? What is it? What’s wrong?” Steve’s voice was worried again and he hooked a finger under Tony’s chin to tilt it up, focusing on him with bright, concerned blue eyes when Tony looked at him. “You ask me why I put up with you, as if you are some hassle to deal with and not an amazing man who I deeply enjoy spending time with, and I tell you I love you and you look at me with such sadness every time. You continue to hold back, to be nervous and uncertain. Why? Why is that not enough of an explanation?”

 

Tony could feel himself shifting under the intensity of Steve’s gaze, his eyes flitting away from those piercing baby blues, before looking down in shame. The thought had been buried from the first moment Steve spoke those words that took his breathe away, lurking underneath all his happiness but ignored because he didn’t want to think about it. He wanted to blissfully enjoy what he had, but apparently he hadn’t done well enough in covering it up – all his doubts and worries.

 

“Because it was never enough before,” he said quietly, mumbled softly into the air between them. He didn’t have to say who he was thinking of, Steve already knew about all his relationship problems, from his indifferent father to one-night stands who couldn’t stand anything beyond sex to impatient Pepper who managed to endure more than anyone else but never stopped holding it over Tony’s head like a debt that he needed to repay. Steve knew about Rhodey and Pepper, his closest friends who loved him genuinely but still got sick of his antics regularly and need time away.

 

Tony continued to avoid eye contact for a few more moments before finally finding Steve’s face again, startled when he saw blue eyes rimmed red and swimming with tears, Steve’s expression crumpled and broken.

 

“Steve? Steve, what’s wrong?” Tony tried to calm the panic welling up in him, wondering if Steve was hurt, trying to figure out what he had said that was so wrong.

 

Steve blinked, a tear dripping down his face, and reached a hand up and ran the back of his finger across Tony’s cheek bone. “I’m so sorry. Sorry that you have never really had anyone who loved you, _all_ of you, for exactly who you are, flaws and all. I’m sorry you’ve had to live so long thinking people were always going to leave you. I’m sorry that I can’t do more than this to show you I’m different.”

 

Tony was shaking his head again, more in disbelief than anything else. Steve had no reason to apologize.

 

“No, just let me finish. I know you love me, that I make you happy and help you find peace and quiet in a way you never have before. I can see it when we sit like this, when you stop having to get up and _move_ , when you’re okay just being with me. I know you well enough to know that is a rare thing. I know you believe I am enough, that I am everything you could ever have wanted and more. How could I not know, you’ve told me.”

 

He chuckled to himself and shook his head. “And I will never cease to be amazed that I could ever be enough for someone like you, that you could ever be happy with me, especially because I do my best to love you, to show you how much I care and how I will never leave and though you believe it to be enough, it’s not. Because you’re still uncertain. But you take it, you accept it and you’re happy with it because it is more than you have ever had before and you cannot possibly believe that there could be more than that, that I really could _mean_ it and mean it _forever_. So I’m sorry that my best is enough in your opinion but not really enough because we still have to have conversations like this.”

 

His tears had ceased but he was still looking at Tony with an intense, clear gaze, like he was trying to convince Tony with nothing more than sheer will power and focus. Tony could only nod, too overwhelmed with everything Steve had said to respond, still needing time to think. It was hard to argue with Steve when he was so sure about something, hard to tell him he was wrong with all that stubborn belief in his eyes, and Tony wasn’t about to try even though he really didn’t want Steve thinking that it was _his_ fault and not Tony’s own hang ups and trust issues that was keeping him from truly believing Steve was here to stay. Loved him, yes, that wasn’t in doubt, but Pepper had loved him too and hadn’t stayed. And Rhodey loved him, but Rhodey wasn’t always there to have his back either, so it was relatively easy for him to accept it when someone loved him, but that didn’t convince him that it would be enough for them to actually stay. Because love wasn’t always enough – isn’t that what half the divorced couples on the planet said?

 

Steve sighed again, but didn’t say anything, just pulled Tony back against his chest, leaving the genius to mull over everything silently, wondering if he would ever stop seeing those sad, hurt looks on Steve’s face when the soldier realized Tony still expected him to leave one day.

 

~~~

 

They spent the first few days in LA much as they spent their time in New York. Tony would drive out to the R&D department in the morning to spend the day there while Steve did whatever it was that he did when Tony wasn’t around. The genius spent his lunch hour either in the lab working straight through or out with his employees, chatting or trying to hash out a design issue. Tony would leave when everyone else clocked out and pick up take-out to eat with Steve either in front of a movie or while he poured over his own personal projects on the holoscreens down in his workshop.

 

Once or twice they went down to the beach before the sun set to walk through the waves and lie in the sand to stare at the sky until the stars came out. Steve would rave about all the sea life he found while diving into the ocean earlier in the day or ask about how Tony’s work was going.

 

The normalcy was broken by a call from Fury – something about robots of doom invading Phoenix. They had sent out a quinjet to pick the two of them up and Tony flew Steve up to meet it, walking up the lowered gangplank to find one redheaded assassin and a bow-toting pilot, minus the bow, on board along with a few SHIELD agents.

 

“Romonav,” Tony said shortly in greeting as he pulled off his helmet.

 

She nodded brusquely back but continued with whatever fiddling she was doing with some equipment.

 

Steve turned to one of the agents, who was holding a tablet and swiping through maps and charts, and asked for mission details. The man quickly outlined what was happening – an army of robots had appeared out of the sewers and was firing at civilians and crushing all the property they came across. No one knew where they had come from and the only clue was that each was emblazoned with the word “Doom” and dressed in green cloaks. Frankly, they were ugly, tacky, and looked like horrible knock offs of the Hammerdrones. Tony was unimpressed.

 

As the briefing was wrapping up Tony sidled up to Barton in the cockpit. “So how’s my little bird doing, any agents giving you grief about your little trip down brainwash lane?” He might have kept the hack of SHIELD in place and checked up on the two agents, noting a few weeks back that Hawkeye’s quarters had been moved to an undisclosed location to protect him from the violent reactions of SHIELD agents who refused to believe that literal mind control was actually a thing, magic be damned.

 

Barton grimaced but he didn’t look upset. “Fury’s been giving me extra missions just to keep me off base, but I haven’t been cleared for any actual work yet so I’m usually just the pilot. Sorry, you’ll get my eyes today, but not my bow.”

 

Steve, appearing out of nowhere, spoke gently. “Don’t worry about it. Just glad to have you watching our backs,” he said, clapping a hand to the man’s shoulder.

 

Barton turned to give him a small smile, but didn’t comment on it. “So where have you two been, haven’t hardly seen Stark in the news at all and Rogers, you dropped off the radar completely.”

 

“I’ve been at the Tower. Tony offered me a guest room and I hated being at SHIELD. Seemed like the better option.”

 

“There’s rooms for all of you, if you want them,” Tony jumped in quickly. “Avengers gotta stick together and all that, assuming you still want a part of that.”

 

Barton grinned. “That one fight was more fun than I’ve ever had being a spy for SHIELD. And who would say 'no' to a place offered up by Tony Stark?”

 

“See, this man knows how to live! I was practically on the verge of bribing Steve to get him to come.” He looked over at the man pointedly.

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve flapped his hand around dismissively, but he was grinning.

 

“So Stark, how’s your girlfriend?” Romanov called out suddenly from behind them.

 

“Not my girlfriend anymore.” Tony turned away and walked toward her where she had ceased her fiddling and was handing out parachutes to the agents on board. “But Pepper’s great, thanks for asking.”

 

Romonav smirked but didn’t comment on the sarcastic politeness. “What about you, Rogers?”

 

“What about me?” he asked, joining them and undoing straps from the few remaining chutes and slinging one on his own back.

 

“Well, you’ve stopped by SHIELD a few times to help train some newbies and chatted with some of the agents. Seen anyone you like?”

 

Tony felt his face screw up in confusion. “You’ve been down to SHIELD?” He tried to quell the churning in his stomach at the thought of Steve hunting for dates when out of the Tower. He knew Steve well enough to know the man would never cheat on him, but he couldn’t help the current of jealousy that ran through him at the agent’s question.

 

“Just a few times for an afternoon when you were busy. And I haven't even been there in over a month,” he answered Tony before turning back to Romonav. “Honestly, I haven’t even really thought about it too much,” he remarked, turning away and heading toward where he had left his helmet.

 

“SHIELD agents aren’t exactly dating material,” Tony quipped, ignoring the part of him that was saying it for purely selfish purposes. It was a true statement anyway.

 

Steve just chuckled and Romonav smirked again. “Right, because that’s really the reason why he wasn’t thinking about it, _Tony_ ,” she said, emphasizing his name and looking at him intently, but Tony didn’t get the chance to reply.

 

“Alright, we’re here guys. Get ready for drop-off!” Barton called out, lowering the ramp at the same time. Tony grabbed his helmet just as Steve was doing up the straps for his own.

 

Romonav shouted over the wind, glancing over at Steve, apparently not giving up on her line of query. “You know if you asked Kristen out from Statistics she’d probably say ‘yes.’”

 

Tony felt his stomach drop, ignoring the urge to look at Steve in panic, not that it would have mattered with the faceplate down.

 

Steve just continued pulling his helmet into place and adjusting the straps to his parachute. “That’s why I don’t ask.”

 

“Too shy or too scared?” Romonav taunted, grinning the whole time.

 

Steve was already walking down the gangplank and didn’t even pause, just turned around and kept walking backwards. “Too busy!” he shouted, before jumping out of the plane.

 

Romonav was still smirking, like she knew something, and Tony, not wanting her to keep trying to set up Steve with anyone else, decided that the time for secrecy was over. Knowing that every agent on board was going to hear this and there was no way to keep it from getting back to Fury, he looked at Romonav over his shoulder and made it clear that Captain America was off limits. “He’s in a relationship with me,” he said, more meekly than he had intended, but turned and flew out of the quinjet before she could reply.

 

He flew toward the ground, glancing back to see the other agents diving out of the plane and then looked down to see Steve approaching the streets, adjusting his trajectory so he could land in a mostly empty parking lot, a block or so away from all the screaming and plumes of smoke.

 

Once everyone had landed, Steve switched to Captain mode and started giving out orders, directing where he wanted everyone to go, sending them out to fan across the area of destruction and pan out to circle around and hem in the bots, hopefully taking them all out and meeting in the middle. Tony would fly around the perimeter, watching everyone’s backs, taking out strays who got past their line of defense, and picking off any bots he came across while moving around. Barton had brought the jet down low enough to hover and watch the fight from above, connected to their com lines to call out any changes.

 

They all took off, each to their respective positions and began firing guns, punching out metal joints, and aiming repulsor blasts to take down the bots. Just as Tony had thought, they were pieces of junk, dying easily and even the most incompetent of the SHIELD agents (not that incompetence by SHIELD standards was anything less than highly skilled) were taking them down with relative ease. The fight was wrapping up quickly less than an hour later, looking like all the bots were shot down or dismantled, just leaving the cleanup left to be handled by SHIELD and local authorities.

 

“Good work, everyone!” Steve said, grunting out last instructions. “Black Widow and I should be able to handle double checking the bots left in the streets to ensure they’re dead. SHIELD agents, help Iron Man evacuate any civilians he locates with his scanners and get them outside the battle zone.”

 

“Aye aye, Cap.” Tony let his sensors scan the area, checking for any civilians and calling out directions and locations to the SHIELD agents on the ground. He was just finishing up and heading back to Steve’s and Romonav’s location when he heard a shout of surprise over the coms. He flew in just in time to see a bot rise up from the ground, green eyes blazing, and shoot a bolt of electricity straight into the Captain’s gut, knocking him to the ground.

 

“Steve!” His heart flew up into his throat, pounding rapidly, and his breath catching in fear. He landed next to the prone man just as the Black Widow clambered up the bot’s twisted frame and jammed her Widow's Bite into its neck, flooding it with electricity and frying out its circuits. It tumbled to the ground, smoking, but Tony’s eyes were for Steve where he lay flat on his stomach and unmoving.

 

Tony tore off his helmet and gauntlets, reaching out to roll the man over and pull off his helmet. “Steve? Steve, baby, come on, open your eyes.” He touched a hand to the man’s face, brushing his sweaty blonde hair off his forehead and grasping his gloved hand. “Steve, wake up, talk to me! Steve!”

 

Romonav crouched down, pressing her ear to his chest and grasping his wrist in hand to check his pulse. “Got a pulse,” she muttered before putting a hand over Steve’s mouth. “He’s breathing, but unconscious. Porter!” she shouted at one of the agents who was just walking over. “We need an ambulance, now!”

 

Just as the agent was about to run off, Steve started coughing, hand tightening around Tony’s, and tried to sit up.

 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down!” Tony felt hope rush in as he saw the man hold himself up. “Steve? Can you hear me? You okay?”

 

Steve waved his hand around, trying to stall the question, still coughing and sucking in ragged breaths. He calmed after a moment, pressing his hand to his stomach and hunching over. “Ooowww,” he moaned out lowly. “Damn, that hurt.”

 

“Steve?”

 

“I’m alright, just knocked the wind out of me,” he said and turned to look at Tony with a smile.

 

The relief that swept through him was so sudden and overpowering Tony was sure he would have fallen over if he had not been in the suit. As it were, the metal joints kept him upright despite his knees going weak and he felt his head fall forward and eyes close as he let the fear from moments earlier melt away.

 

Steve, sensing his worry, reached out to cup his face. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m alright.” He tilted Tony’s face up and looked at him with a small smile.

 

Unable to control his chaotic emotions, Tony lurched forward and pressed a kiss to Steve’s lips, smashing their mouths together in a rather rough and unpleasant way, but he needed the contact. Steve adjusted quickly and softened it, letting their lips drag against each other for a moment before Tony pulled back to look at Steve fiercely.

 

“Don’t ever do that to me again. God, I- You… That was-“

 

Steve looked sheepish, but he was still smiling softly. “Sorry. Did I scare you?”

 

Tony just sighed and moved to press his face into Steve’s neck, wrapping his armored arms around the man and pulling him in close. Steve’s arms gripped him tightly back and they stayed that way for long moments until they heard someone clearing their throat. Tony looked up to see Romonav still crouched next to them, one eyebrow raised in speculation.

 

Steve flushed and pulled away. “Oh. Sorry. I, uh…”

 

“I suppose there’s no point in asking about Amy from Accounting?”

 

Steve chuckled. “No. No point at all.”

 

~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, that dialogue on the quinjet was an absolute pain to write. I don't know why, but it just took awhile for me to get it to work and sound good. 
> 
> Anyway, one more full on chapter with the proposal and what not, yay!!!! So, yeah, you're getting a full 10 chapters, which I suppose is only fair so that both characters each get 5 chapters of their own. Then the epilogue with the wedding. 
> 
> I realized that it's probably like mid-July by now and we skipped over Steve's birthday!!!! If you adhere to it being on Independence Day, anyway - I'm not sure how the comic canon actually deals with that because I was a middle-class child who lived in the country and didn't get to buy comic books to read growing up. I assume that Tony got Steve some ridiculous gift and they celebrated just the two of them. Maybe you would like to offer up some prompts/suggestions for a related/sequel/side fic for me to write after this one is done about said birthday? (yes, smut can be suggested, though I can't guarantee I'm any good at it)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I'm late, forgive me. If it's any consolation to you, this is literally the first time I've been late with this whole story and normally I'm always late. Basically I was supposed to update on Thursday but I still had one last bit left to write and my parent's needed me to help with gardening and then Friday I was gone all day doing maid-of-honor stuff with my best friend, and Saturday I was exhausted and more excuses and blah blah blah. I got distracted :) 
> 
> This chapter is a little bit longer than normal (like an extra 500ish words), so that should make you feel better :)

“Well. That got around quickly.”

 

Tony just grunted noncommittally and threw a glance over at Steve who was staring at the television in bemusement, arms wrapped protectively around the pillow that covered his abdomen. It turned out the shot from the doombot had done a little more than just knock the wind out of him, had actually burned his skin pretty badly, but the serum was working quickly to heal him and the SHIELD nurses who had monitored his recovery after New York estimated he would be back to perfect condition within a couple of days. For now, though, he was under house arrest to give him time to heal properly and get a lot of sleep to help speed up the process.

 

The attack on Phoenix had ended less than twenty-four hours ago but somehow a photo of Steve and Tony’s kiss was already all over the media. Apparently there had been a civilian lurking around and had been filming the end of the fight – had gotten Steve getting shot, his brief moments of unconsciousness, subsequent waking, and Tony’s frantic worrying and relieved expression and the heated kiss all on film with their cellphone. Thankfully the video hadn’t been posted or released, but the anonymous cameraman had taken the still shot of their kiss and sent it out to various newspapers, magazine companies, photographers, bloggers, gossip columns, etc. and posted it on their own private social media pages. The picture had gotten more hits, views, comments, and shares in the last day than anyone could possibly hope to count.

 

Tony was sitting next to Steve on the couch where they had been flipping through channels before they had stopped briefly to watch some random talk show host blabber on about their theories of the story behind the kiss. Part of him was happy that the information was public – now people would know that Steve was taken _and_ that the infamous playboy could actually catch the attention of a good guy. On the other hand, he wasn’t really sure he wanted their relationship public knowledge yet. It wasn’t insecurity, he had just really been enjoying having Steve all to himself and being able to just enjoy each other and their time together without constantly being questioned about it. Their time of peace and quiet was over now, though. The only thing left to do was make it official by releasing a statement or holding a press conference.

 

Pepper had actually called earlier in the day to inform them that she was setting up a date for about a week down the road to appear on a talk show. This time, though, it would be with Steve. She thought that having the all-American pinnacle of goodness and honesty speak would make their relationship seem more legitimate and help the media take them seriously. Tony talking about it might just make it come off as another fling, but Steve’s irresistible smiles and bright baby blues would convince even the most skeptical of people that the two were in it for the long haul.

 

Tony watched Steve out of the corner of his eye, noted the way he moved rarely and did so slowly and carefully, conscientious of his sore and painful abdomen, and wished that the serum didn’t make administering painkillers almost pointless. Steve’s faster metabolism meant that he had to take far higher doses of some of the most powerful pain medications available but they all wore off rather quickly. Even more serious was that most of the medications that could withstand the serum for long enough to be worth taking were ones likely to cause addiction so usually the super soldier chose to just endure the pain for the few days it was there. He had told Tony that so far he had managed to avoid any serious injuries so it hadn’t been much of an issue so far.

 

It didn’t make the genius feel any better, though, having to watch his lover be in so much pain. He decided that once Steve was healed up, if avoiding the media wasn’t too hard, they would go out to celebrate, eat somewhere nice for a change and have a proper date by Stark standards rather than just sitting around eating takeout. He loved doing that with Steve, but he wanted to treat him to something special in honor of his recovery. It didn’t matter that the serum meant that healing really wasn’t a big deal, it didn’t matter that Steve had endured pain worse than this before, it didn’t matter that Steve would think it silly to celebrate recovering from something so relatively minor. Tony loved him and wanted to do something special for him and he had prepared every excuse he could to convince Steve to let him make reservations for later that week. If he was surprised that Steve agreed to it almost immediately with an almost unnatural amount of excitement twinkling in his eyes, Tony wrote it off as the man simply wanting a change of scenery.

 

~~~

 

“Right this way Mr. Stark, Captain Rogers.”

 

“Thank you.” Tony let the waiter lead them through the restaurant and into a private room near the back, away from the stares and decidedly unsubtle glances that had been thrown their way from the moment they stepped out of Tony’s car. Thankfully no one had tried to approach them yet but Tony was only putting it down to the fact that the sort of people who could frequent a place like this had more dignity than to approach strangers and question them about their love lives just because their picture had ended up plastered everywhere.

 

They were seated at a small, intimate table that was covered in elegant, sparkling dishes, tall glasses off to the side with a bottle of wine waiting for them and an immaculate waiter with menus in hand. They settled into the chairs quietly and ordered, waiting for the restaurant staff to leave before starting to talk at all.

 

Steve spent a moment simply looking around the room, eyes wide as he took in the soft lights, gold and silver décor, the expensive paintings adorning the walls, and the general elegant and tasteful appearance of the place.

 

“This is really nice, Tony. It must have cost a fortune to get us in here.” He didn’t say it accusingly. Somewhere along the way Steve seemed to have accepted the fact that not only was Tony perfectly capable of paying for everything but actually _enjoyed_ it, genuinely liked taking care of people financially, and so the soldier had quit protesting Tony’s purchases. He still asked the billionaire to be practical and not buy things he didn’t need, but if Tony wanted to do things the “rich person” way from time-to-time that was okay too, apparently. In this particular case he just turned to the genius with a grin.

 

“Only the best for you, darling,” Tony said in a terrible accent. 

 

Steve chuckled. “I can see that. Well, I suppose if my super rich lover wants to shower me with exorbitant gifts and fancy restaurants I may as well take advantage of it while I can.”

 

Tony grinned. “Did you order the most expensive thing on the menu? Please tell me you were only taking so long because you were having to compare prices!”

 

“Well of course,” Steve said, faking confusion. “Would you expect anything less of me?”

 

Tony chuckled and shook his head. “You’re such a dork.” He looked up to see Steve grinning broadly, eyes sparkling.

 

“You like it.”

 

“Yeah, I do,” Tony breathed out, far more fondness than playful banter in his tone than he had intended.

 

Steve’s eyes softened, expression shifting to a gentle smile of affection that always made Tony’s throat close up. “I like your dorky side, too.”

 

Tony’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean? I’m not a dork!”

 

Steve raised an eyebrow for a moment, looking skeptical. “Yeah you are. You’re the biggest dork I’ve ever met.”

 

Tony lifted his chin up defiantly and leaned back in his chair, affecting affront but with an air of calm grace. “Tony Stark is not a dork. Tony Stark is a genius and a billionaire and has been voted ‘Sexiest Man Alive’ on more than one occasion. Tony Stark is charming and mature and part of some of the most sophisticated circles of individuals on the planet.” He sniffed imperiously and stared down his nose at Steve who was smiling in amusement.

 

“Yeah, Tony Stark is all of those things,” he said agreeably. “But _Tony_ is a massive dork who wears dirty rock band t-shirts and has grease under his fingernails and in his hair and plays with his robots like their his pets and knows all the best quotes from Star Wars and the Lord of the Rings and played Dungeons and Dragons secretly in college. _Tony_ only hires interns that have big, ugly glasses and who are too shy to talk clearly but are apparently incredibly smart which only gets them made fun of outside of SI laboratories but makes them kings and masters in the R &D department. And _Tony_ likes chocolate ice cream, but only in a bowl, never in a cone, and secretly goes to ComiCon every year in disguise and makes weird faces in the morning before he’s had his coffee and won’t admit that he likes children - he insists they’re gross because they drool and sneeze and get dirty constantly. _Tony_ is a big softie on the inside and kind of acts like a kid half the time but will never let anyone see it because he believes that _Tony_ is just an awkward little nerd that everyone thinks is boring and unworthy of their time, so he only acts like Tony _Stark_ when people around.”

 

Tony felt his breath catch in his throat. He had never really said anything like that directly to Steve, never talked about how boarding school had been hell because of all the bullies and snotty little rich kids who liked to pick on the weird genius whose parents never sent him any letters or called him on the weekends and wore glasses and was matter than all of them. He had never told anyone how when he had left for college he had thrown together a public face, a mask of charm and wit to hide what he was really like, shy and awkward and nerdy, and that over the years he had done it so much that it had become part of him. He couldn’t hardly figure out where the cover ended and his own self began, couldn’t separate the two anymore. He _was_ Tony Stark, just like he _was_ Iron Man and he was charismatic and funny and brash and carefree. But there were times when he reverted back to that shy, nerdy little boy who liked science fiction and fantasy and got picky about his food and wished he could spend all day just _building_.

 

He had a moment to sit in wonder at Steve for having been able to see all of that, to see how Tony acted paired with what he said, both privately and publically, and piece it all together well enough to see everything that he was, to see how he had created a persona and let it become part of him, but not the only part. Steve had seen it all and Tony felt his chest constrict and his throat get tight as he looked up at Steve and saw nothing but love and affection, adoration shining in his face like the brightness of the sun.

 

Steve’s voice turned gentle, wonder and awe coloring it while his smile stayed soft and intimate. “ _Tony_... He covered it all up, hid away that nerdy side from everyone. But for some reason he let _me_ meet him, the dork who has seen Jurassic Park like fifty times and won’t eat Oreo’s unless there’s milk and has Jarvis play sound effects for the elevator doors when he thinks no one is paying attention. He let _me_ , of all people, get to know the part of him that no one else gets to and it's the most amazing thing. I can’t even begin to describe how special that makes me feel, how much more I love him because of how much he trusts me.”

 

Tony swallowed, feeling his eyes burning and trying to keep himself from crying before they even got their food. “There’s no one else, Steve. No one else I trust more.”

 

Steve reached out and ran a finger down Tony’s cheek. “I love you.”

 

Those words never failed to make his heart stutter, his breath to freeze momentarily in his chest. “I love you,” he breathed back.

 

Without moving his hand away, Steve spoke softly. “There’s something I wanted to ask you.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah,” he said, eyes roving over Tony’s face in concentration, searching for something. He leaned back and reached into his pocket, placing a small box on the table that he tilted open to reveal a ring, a band of gold nestled in black silk.

 

Tony stopped breathing entirely.

 

“Tony, you are the most amazing man I’ve ever met. You’re generous and brave, a bit of a dork but so extremely intelligent. You’re kind and funny and sometimes you’ve got a temper and are a bit impatient but I love all of those things about you. I love _everything_ about you and I know this is probably terrible timing what with that picture and everything but I couldn’t wait anymore. I want you with me, want you mine in every sense of the word. Will you marry me?”

 

Tony could only stare, face blank and mind swirling. Steve wanted to _marry_ him?

 

Steve was still smiling brightly, eyes tender as he looked across the table at the genius. “It doesn’t have to be anything big or public. We could do it here, well at the house, get a priest or a pastor to come and do the ceremony, get Pepper and Happy to stick around as witnesses. Afterward it would just be the two of us, together down by the ocean to celebrate. We could walk on the beach, drink red wine. It would be perfect, small and private and no paparazzi there to harass us. Come on, say yes!”

 

He was looking at Tony with such hope, such blatant love that Tony was having a hard time holding his gaze. Steve stretched his hands out again, seemingly reaching for Tony’s hands, but he had them firmly clasped together in his lap, fingers twisting and twining together in nervousness as he thought. He wanted to, wanted to be able to claim Steve as _his_ , wanted to keep this man that he loved and adored so much by his side forever.

 

The doubts had been niggling in his head ever since Steve had begun talking, telling him endlessly why this was a horrible idea, all the ways it could go bad. But more than all of that, more than all of his fears, Tony was completely and utterly floored by the fact that after all they had been through, after all the crap Steve had put up with because of Tony, he still wanted him. It was one thing to keep dating someone, to say you loved them and yet still be fighting against frustrations and irritations on the inside that eventually blew up. It was one thing to stay with a person despite how much they drove you crazy. It was one thing for Steve to be his lover even though Tony was difficult and stubborn and secretive and arrogant, and on top of that now having to deal with the media’s and the country’s opinion now that it had all gone public. It was one thing to live with all of that but still have the option of bailing at any moment because the relationship wasn’t permanent.

 

But it was a completely different thing for Steve to not only endure it but want to continue it, maybe even make it all worse by _marrying_ him. This was a level of commitment and loyalty and _love_ that Tony never thought he would ever receive from a person in his whole life. Pepper might have dated him for years to come if Iron Man hadn’t been a part of the picture, but she never would have wanted to make their relationship legally binding, and yet here was Steve wanting to take the ultimate step. His heart was lodged in his throat, pulse pounding in his ears, love and adoration soaring in his chest as he looked into those baby blues. How could he possibly say ‘no’?

 

All those thoughts flew through Tony’s mind in just a couple of seconds while he shifted around on his seat before finally looking up at Steve’s smiling face and giving back his own hesitant, shy smile. “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

 

Steve was standing up in his chair and pulling Tony’s face forward and into a kiss faster than the genius could blink, their lips pressing together swiftly and heatedly but gently. Steve pulled back almost as quickly as he had started, eyes searching Tony’s. “Yeah?”

 

Tony nodded, heart swelling and face finally breaking out into a real smile. “Yeah.”

 

~~~ 

 

The day of the interview had arrived. Pepper had walked through the front door an hour or so earlier and drug Steve off of the couch where he had been sitting watching a movie with Tony and the two had disappeared, presumably getting Steve ready to appear on national television. Tony had wanted to help but Pepper had just shouted at him through the closed door that he would only be a distraction and she didn’t have the time to deal with it. So he meandered back into the living room to find Happy munching out of the bowl of popcorn that had been sitting on the table and a bottle of water wedged between his thigh and the armrest of the couch. Tony had plopped down next to him and the two had been sitting silently watching the movie ever since.

 

He was a little nervous, sending Steve off to face the masses by himself, but the soldier had reminded him that his USO days had required a lot of public image stuff and talking with reporters and the like. He had never been on a talk show, but it wasn’t much different than sitting down to do an interview for a news article.

 

“Besides,” he had said, “it’s not going to be all that big of a deal. Pepper already made it clear to them that the main purpose of the interview is just to catch up on how I’ve been doing in this century. Confirming our relationship isn't going to be the main focus.”

 

“No, but it’s what everyone actually cares about,” Tony had pointed out, knowing he was pouting.

 

Steve had just smiled and nodded, tugging Tony close for a hug and mumbling reassurances. He didn’t seem worried at all, which helped Tony’s nerves a little bit, but not entirely. He knew there was going to be a lot of backlash, partially for him, but a notorious playboy coming out as a little more than strictly straight was nothing compared to Captain America claiming the same. Even if the majority of the country was supportive, heck even if the _whole_ country was supportive, the main issue was that now their personal life was going to be world-wide knowledge and the invasiveness into the superheros' lives was only going to get that much worse because of it. Tony was used to it, but Steve was not.

 

Tony was honestly surprised that Steve had even agreed to talk about their relationship at all and especially surprised that all the chaos over it wasn’t making him turn tail and run. Pepper had almost decided not to date Tony simply because she knew they couldn’t keep it private forever and she didn’t want to deal with the masses trying to make their relationship into a spectator’s show; it was too exhausting.

 

So here was Steve, jumping into the public eye and going national with their personal relationship all in one night and Tony would be lying if he said it didn’t make him love the man even more, but there was still a part of him that was worried Steve might back out at the last second when he saw just how many people were concerned with their personal lives, that he would choose to deny their relationship if only so he could avoid the hassle of it going public. Tony hoped he was wrong, but he supposed he wouldn’t be Tony if he didn’t still have at least a tiny worm of doubt wiggling around in his head.

 

Pepper and Steve emerged a few minutes later, the soldier dressed impeccably in a dark suit, hair parted neatly and shoes shined. A tiny part of Tony’s brain was impressed with his former PA’s ability to get a perfectly tailored suit for Steve in less than a week but the rest of his attention was too busy focusing on the gorgeous man in front him.

 

Steve’s broad shoulders were held high and proud, confidence defining his every step and movement, but the downturn of his mouth said he was uncomfortable. The man wasn’t used to being dressed so formally and Tony suddenly remembered a whispered secret from the soldier from a few weeks earlier, spoken late at night – Steve had a hard time understanding that people found him attractive. He couldn’t deny that his body was human perfection incarnate but it was his face that worried him. Other than adding some size and a bit more meat and fat, his face was still exactly the same as it had been before the serum and he had never been complimented on his appearance then.

 

Tony had been utterly floored by the man’s quiet words, his eyes haunted and posture stiff and awkward. He had suddenly turned into that tiny, skinny man who couldn’t catch a dame’s eye even if he were the only male in the room, hunched over and trying to disappear. Tony had seen the pictures of Steve from before the serum – Howard had kept a few photos – and had always thought the artist-turned-soldier had been handsome even without the serum’s enhancement.

 

He had tried to point out to Steve that the serum couldn’t change anything about you, only enhance it, so Steve had to have been handsome before otherwise he couldn’t possibly be so gorgeous now. Why else would women be fawning all over him constantly? Steve had smiled at him, small and sad, and thanked him but had hardly looked convinced. Tony had suddenly had a desire to travel back in time and cuss out each and every women who had ever sneered at, ignored, or even gently let down this amazing man in front of him just because he was on the small side.

 

So he looked up at Steve and saw the discomfort, however slight, in the man’s expression, and let his own face show his complete and total adoration, let his eyes show the heat that was flooding his veins as his gaze roamed over the soldier’s body, wishing he could rip the suit off then and there. He looked at Steve and let him see just how utterly attractive, how beautiful Tony thought he was, and watched with satisfaction as the tension bled out of the soldier’s frame and he smiled down at the genius softly.

 

Steve walked over and wrapped the smaller man up in his arms, pressing a kiss to his head in a silent ‘thank you,’ before asking if it was time to go. Pepper nodded and Tony gave him a kiss for good luck before Steve walked out with Happy in tow. Pepper was staying behind so they could watch the show together when it aired, a stack of paperwork in hand for the two of them to go over while they waited. 

 

“You two seem really taken with each other,” Pepper was saying a couple of hours later as she headed over to the bar to grab them some drinks. “I haven’t seen you look at anyone like that before.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“Like you love them,” she said simply.

 

“I looked at you like that.” He got up to follow after her, to help her carry over the glasses.

 

“I suppose you did.” She sounded like she was smiling, but her back was turned, her hand fluttering over the various bottles before she chose one and turned back around. “I think he’s better for you, though. I wasn’t enough for you.” He expression turned sad as she looked at Tony, her forehead crinkled.

 

“Aww, Pep, no, that’s not true.”

 

“Yes it is.” She sounded more resigned now, rather than truly upset. “I know you think that the blame is all on you for being difficult, but that’s not the real issue here. You shouldn’t have to change, you should have someone who loves you for exactly who you are and can handle your brand of chaos. I couldn’t do it. But… I think Steve can. I think that man is better than anyone you could ever find. He’s perfect for you.” She gestured behind Tony and he turned back to look at the TV where the show had started without either of them realizing.

 

The host was just throwing up the picture taken after the battle of the two of them kissing and was asking about the relationship between Steve and Tony.

 

“We know that you’ve kind of disappeared from the public eye since the Battle of New York, at least until this past week or two. You’ve been seen coming in and out of Tony Stark’s Malibu home a few times. What’s going on with that?”

 

Steve smiled brightly. “Well, I’ve been staying at the Tower for the last few months, mostly, which is why I haven’t been out much. I’ve spent my time resting, taking a break from the superhero business for awhile.”

 

“Even Captain America needs a vacation, I guess!” the host said cheerily.

 

“Exactly. But living in the Tower meant that I ran into Mr. Stark rather frequently and we’ve gotten to know each other rather well, I think.”

 

‘You’ve gotten close,” the host said.

 

“Yes.” Steve nodded shortly.

 

The host looked at him searchingly. “…And the picture?”

 

Steve’s public smile turned a little softer at that but his tone was still joking when he spoke. “I don’t suppose you would believe me if I said he was giving me mouth to mouth?”

 

Everyone laughed and Steve smiled for a moment before his expression turned serious.

 

“Tony and I have gotten very close these last few months. He became my best friend, one of the few people I really felt I could trust and call a friend in this time. Somewhere along the way, it became something more,” he said, smile turning fond.

 

There were some “awws” from the audience, but the host cut it off quickly.

 

“More? How serious would you say your relationship is?”

 

This was it, this was when everything would change. Tony felt himself holding his breath as he watched Steve take a deep breath, his eyes turning focused and intent, much like they did before he walked into battle.

 

“Well, actually, I have something to say about that. An announcement, really.” He stood up and went to stand directly in front of one of the cameras, staring straight at the lens.

 

Tony felt his brow furrow in confusion, wondering what Steve was up to and why he felt nervous.

 

Steve grinned suddenly and looked like he was holding back a laugh, expression almost mischievous. “Iron Man and I moving to New York to get married!” he said brightly. 

 

The whole room began to roar with cheers and shouts, people calling out questions and chattering amongst themselves. The host looked floored, having been completely caught off guard, and Steve just stood there the whole time grinning broadly, seemingly pleased with himself.

 

Tony sat stunned for a moment, missing the amused chuckling behind him from Pepper, mind whirling as he realized that Steve had gone above and beyond what anyone had asked of him. They were engaged, yes, but there had been no talk of about how soon the wedding would be happening. It could have been years before they decided to make that final step, they could have taken the time to firmly establish their relationship in the public eye before going all the way. Or, if they couldn’t wait, they could have simply gotten married quietly and privately and made a statement at a later date, kept everything rather close and personal. But Steve had thrown it all out in the wind, boldly claiming Tony as his own, permanently, publically, and proudly.

 

Tony felt his heart swell as he looked at the screen and at this man who continued to surprise him with his loyalty, his love, his protectiveness over Tony that bordered on possessive. He wasn’t ashamed of their relationship in anyway, wasn’t so worried about the public opinion that he would want to keep his love for Tony a secret, wasn’t more concerned about dealing with publicity issues than he was about making Tony his.

 

Relief poured through the genius like a flood, a sudden realization that Steve really was in this for the long haul, that he wasn’t going anywhere, that he loved Tony more than anything and that it was enough; that he was willing to endure anything, that Tony’s antics and being in the public eye was not too much to keep Steve from him. Steve loved him and Steve wanted him forever and Tony felt a laugh bubbling up from inside him, relief and joy and happiness and love all too powerful to keep inside. He laughed and felt his face split into a smile, knowing that Steve was his and he was Steve’s, and everything was perfect.

 

~~~ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! Ten full chapters completed and only an epilogue left to go. I can't believe we're almost done!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are, at the end. Thank you all of you for sticking with me through the whole thing. I hope you tell people you know about this story and get it going around (at least, if you think it's good). 
> 
> I thought we'd go back to Steve for the epilogue - I don't think we got as much time with him as we did with Tony and I've kind of missed him after so long. I hope you enjoy, and thank you again for all the comments and kudos! I still appreciate them :)

**Epilogue**

 

The day had gone by in a blur – a flurry of activity as people flitted around from one room to the next making sure everything was in place. Steve hadn’t had much to do, other than get dressed properly and try and keep from pacing back and forth all morning long, but everyone around him was running around getting everything ready. Natasha and Pepper had been going back and forth between the two dressing rooms, ensuring the men were attired properly, the photographers had popped in and out snapping photos, Clint and Tony's best friend Rhodey had been coming by with pictures of the roof periodically to ask Steve and Pepper if the decorations had been put up correctly, and Thor and Bruce were just watching everything happen with wide eyes and hushed murmurs to each other about how ridiculous this all was.

 

The wedding wasn’t exactly going to be a big affair – just the team and their closest friends and significant others, as well as a few of Tony’s favorite R&D guys and some SHIELD people. The resurrected Coulson was one, and Fury had insisted he needed to be there, but no paparazzi, no news reporters, no slew of high-to-do people that Tony had connections with because of SI. Small and private, just like both of them wanted.

 

Steve had still been incredibly nervous, even without the public spectacle, just because he could hardly believe he was actually getting _married_. To _Tony_. It was enough to make his heart race and his hands sweat, his nervous system jumping into hyper drive like it did in battle and made him restless with energy. Every time Natasha had come back in to make sure he was okay she had needed to grab his arm and push him into a chair, running through basic breathing exercises to calm him down. Pepper usually stood behind her smirking, making comments intermittently about “the two of you.”

 

The walk down the aisle was almost just as bad. Tony had walked down before him and was standing and waiting by the minister, the biggest grin plastered on his face and eyes brighter than Steve had ever seen. His hand had been shaking when Steve grabbed it in his own, but so was Steve’s so they had just smiled at each other and let themselves get lost in the declarations of love and the promises to stand by one another forever, forgetting about everyone around them.

 

The party afterward was also small, no extra guests that hadn’t already been at the ceremony, but there were enough people around to keep them occupied and entertained for hours – eating, talking, hugging, dancing, more eating. Tony kept a death grip on his hand the whole time, but Steve didn’t mind. He couldn’t stand the idea of being separated, even for a few moments, so when the older man excused himself hours later to use the restroom and hadn’t come back nearly fifteen minutes later, he started to worry.

 

Excusing himself from his conversation with Colonel Rhodes, Steve stepped out into the hallway, about to ask JARVIS where Tony was when the AI beat him to it.

 

 _Sir is up on the roof, Captain_.

 

“Thanks JARVIS. Take me there?”

 

 _Of course, sir._ JARVIS said as the elevator doors slid closed.

 

He found Tony near the end of the rooftop, standing on the platform that was wreathed in white Christmas lights where they had said their vows, looking out over the city. The whole roof had been covered in a temporary wooden gazebo, just slats of wood with open spaces looking up to the sky and strung with lights to look like stars in the middle of the day. In the dark it just made everything look soft and beautiful. Steve leaned against one of the posts that held it up, crossing his arms over his chest and watching his husband for awhile.

 

“Hey there, gorgeous, you come here often?” he said after a few minutes.

 

Tony startled a little and turned around, a sheepish expression on his face. “Steve. I suppose you’re here to bring me back down to our guests.”

 

Steve paused for a moment before unraveling his arms and walking across the roof toward Tony. “I think they can wait for a bit. What are you doing up here?”

 

Tony glanced over his shoulder back out over the city. “Just needed some space. Was getting a little tired, I guess.”

 

“Long day,” Steve remarked.

 

Tony just hummed, eyes still out over the horizon.

 

Steve turned his gaze down to all the lights as well, watching. He was startled a few moments later when Tony chuckled.

 

“I can’t believe I get to say I’m married. I have a _husband_.”

 

Steve looked at him with a grin. “It is a little strange to say, isn’t it?  _Husband."_

 

Tony looked back at him, smiling broadly before it suddenly slipped off of his face and his expression turned quiet but fond. He looked at Steve for long moments, eyes roving over his face while Steve looked at him in turn, memorizing every little detail so he would never forget this moment, what Tony looked like on this day. He wanted to remember what it was like to feel so loved, to love so much and to be so full of happiness and hope for the future, wished he could bottle it up to pull out on the bad days that he knew would come. Steve wanted to be able to think back on this moment and remember what it felt like so that when things got hard he would remember why it was all worth it – because this man in front of him was worth everything, was his whole world, and he would love him until his last breath and beyond.

 

Tony took a step closer, gazing up at his face with eyes that revealed everything, all the same thoughts of adoration and commitment swirling through them and speaking promises of forever and protection and absolute love. “I love you, Steve,” he said firmly, passionately.

 

Steve couldn’t help the smile that spread across his own face. “I love you, too,” he said, leaning down for a kiss.

 

~~~

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](onoheiwa.tumblr.com).


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